Through the Dragon's Gate
by Borealum
Summary: There is much about Roy's bloodline he doesn't know. The young lion, curious about his mother's half, heads to Dread Isle in hopes of contacting Nils. However, there is something much more sinister than the Dragon's Gate awaiting him...(After the events of Binding Blade, crossover with Shadow Dragon)
1. Prologue I: The Dragon's Gate

**K, I'm just gonna say right now that tinfoil hats will be required (maybe). It's an alternate timeline/AU sorta thing, but I've been thinking it out a looot, am taking some artistic liberties, and I'm posting it.  
Yolo, yellow, jell-o...whatever the saying is, yeah, screw it, going with it.  
Fair warning: FIRE EMBLEM REKKA NO KEN/FUUIN NO TSURUGI SPOILERS AHEAD. Read at your own risk!  
**

**Roy is dressed as he is in Awakening. This will be more apparent later, since I only referenced his looks a couple of times in this prologue, but...yeah.**

**I'm really excited to write this story. I don't own Fire Emblem/the characters/whatever, that's all Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. I just have this story.  
Huge thanks to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading!  
**

**I hope you guys enjoy this prologue!**

* * *

**Prologue I: The Dragon's Gate**

Dread Isle.

The name alone was enough to send shivers down the spines of even the strongest of warriors. Stories of shipwrecks and missing seafarers—sailors, travelers, and traders alike—were copious in amount. Nary would a month go by without another story of a missing ship and its crew. What was once an event that would occur every two or three months soon became a weekly incident.

The young lion, Roy, had returned to Lycia after slaying the demon dragon. Though he had been expected to marry, he never did—he put the good of the land above his own social obligations.

Eliwood was proud of how much Roy had done to help rebuild Lycia, but he was concerned for Roy's health. The young redhead had a tendency to overwork himself, and one night, Eliwood happened upon his son sprawled across his desk, passed out from exhaustion. This incident is what prompted the Marquess to forcibly send Roy off to "get some godforsaken rest."

Though Roy protested at first, his aching eyes and sore hands were enough to persuade him into agreement with his father. His idea of rest was different from Eliwood's, however, as his request was nothing of a luxury.

His bid was simple: to go on a short journey of his own.

Initially, Eliwood was surprised. It wasn't long, however, before his surprise soon ebbed away into understanding.

"Where will you go?" Eliwood had asked his son.

"I would like to… go meet my uncle," Roy had answered slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.

The Dragon's Gate was a controversial place; Roy knew this. The young man had been curious about the other side of his family—he had never met his mother, for she had died soon after his birth, and all he heard about her and was from his father. He did not doubt that his father knew his mother well, but he wanted to hear about her and 'the other half' from someone who grew up with her and lived the life of a dragon.

"The Gate was sealed by your uncle, it won't open," his father had explained.

Roy nodded. "I know, father. But… I would like to talk with him, perhaps through the sealed gate."

Nergal had been able to speak to both Ninian and Nils when they were inside the Dragon's Gate, so the young lion's idea was to attempt the same form of contact.

Eliwood was wary of the idea. He knew the only reason it had ended so terribly with Nergal was because of how corrupt he had become and what his motives had been, but sending Roy to Dread Isle was tedious and dangerous in and of itself.

However, he knew that meeting Nils was important to Roy. He was eighteen now and had never met anyone from his mother's side of the family—he knew nothing of the dragons, other than what he had learned during his studies in Ostia and what he had been told from Eliwood and the others.

Therefore, with a hesitant nod, he allowed his son to go on this journey.

* * *

Violent waves crashed against the shore of Dread Isle as Roy looked over the sea. The water had been dangerous, that much was certain—but his ship did not struggle as many others seemed to.

He turned his head and tilted his gaze upward at the island.

"I'm here," he said quietly as he surveyed the area with sharp, curious eyes. The wind rushed past him as a wave crashed against the rocky shore and his cadmium red hair whipped about his face. He squinted, tugged his tattered cape back, and began his trek into the island alone.

The fog had been thick at the shore, but it had become nearly opaque by the time Roy found the old ruins that contained the Dragon's Gate. It seemed like an eternity of wandering through those ruins before Roy finally stumbled upon a tall and wide staircase. He looked up slowly as he felt a tugging feeling in his chest. His eyes narrowed and he slowly ascended the stairs, the armor on his legs making the quietest clanks with each careful step he took.

As soon as he reached the top, his eyes widened.

Directly across from him stood a towering gate, decorated with ornate designs and statues of dragons on either side. He felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight. Even though the gate was sealed shut, he could still feel its energy charging the air.

A few moments passed before he closed his eyes and opened them once more. He calmly walked towards the gate and stopped when he was only mere inches away from it.

". . . Nils?" he called. There was no answer.

He pursed his lips. Surely he could do this. If someone as human as Nergal could speak through the gate, Roy could as well. He thought for a moment before he decided to try again.

". . . Nils," Roy began, "My name is Roy. I'm… here to talk to you, because you knew my mother."

Silence. Roy's eyes closed and his shoulders drooped slightly—not from sadness, but from exhaustion.

"My mother's name is Ninian," he continued. "She is your sister. I was hoping… I could speak with you."

Silence again. Roy's lips pursed.

". . . You are my sister's son?" a young voice responded.

The response startled Roy and he quickly looked to the stone wall of the gate.

"I… yes, I am the son of Ninian," Roy answered. "You… are Nils?"

"I am Nils," Nils said. "Why are you here to talk with me?"

Roy let the faintest of smiles cross his lips. "I wanted to learn about my mother. My father always tells me stories about her. I also wanted to meet you."

One could almost sense the surprise that Nils felt when he heard Roy's words.

"… Alright," Nils finally responded, a smile evident in his tone. "Let's talk."

* * *

Hours went by as Roy spoke with Nils. He learned a lot about the dragons, learned about his uncle, and most importantly, heard stories about his mother.

"She really loved your father," Nils said. "I was surprised at first, but Eliwood is a really great man… so I can see why she ended up falling in love with him…."

Roy, who had decided to sit back against one of the pillars of the gate some time before, nodded slightly. "My father... told me a lot about her. He loved her, too."

There was a silence.

". . . You know, it's not your fault, Roy," Nils finally spoke.

Roy blinked and looked back to the gate, as if he looked back to Nils. "What?"

"She ended up passing away after you were born," Nils continued. "But it's not your fault."

Roy stared at the cracked stone behind him. ". . . I know," he responded slowly.

"Do you?"

Another bout of silence. Nils started to speak again.

"…Roy—"

"Wait," Roy cut him off and stood. He looked around.

There was an uneasy feeling in the air. The magic that filled the room had shifted from the static charge of the Gate to a darker, heavier feeling.

"Something bothering you, manakete?" a chilling voice called out from the darkness of the chamber. Roy's gaze snapped to the source of the noise—a man in a cloak standing atop one of the pillars to the side of the staircase.

"Who are you?" Roy called out, his pose instantly shifting to a defensive one.

"Do names matter?" the man responded coolly. "A manakete does not deserve to know our names, anyway."

"I am not a manake— wait, _our_?" Roy's hair stood on end as he quickly looked around. There were five other cloaked figures, each one standing atop pillars, looking down on him.

The first man snickered and Roy glanced to him once more. "Clearly you do not think us the fools," he said. "Only a manakete would be powerful enough to stay in this place and talk through the Dragon's Gate for so long without going the least bit mad."

"I am no manakete," Roy repeated as his hand gripped the hilt of his sword.

"Hm," the man pretended to think. "Then if you are not a manakete, why do you harbor such an incredible level of Quintessence?"

The young lion pursed his lips and remained silent.

There was a smile in the cloaked man's voice. "Ah, that must mean you're…a half-breed? No, not a half-breed... only a quarter of your blood is the blood of a dragon's."

Roy's body visibly tensed and the grip on his sword tightened.

"I seem to have struck the nail on the head," the man observed with a smile.

"Roy," Nils' voice came through the gate, "Get out of here right now."

Roy looked back, poised to respond, but was cut off before he could.

"I believe the time to escape has long since passed," the man spoke again, turning Roy's attention to him once more.

"Who are you people?" Roy asked again.

The man shook his head. "You won't stop asking, will you?" He smiled. "Fine. I'll tell you. We are mages. Years ago, we came here to study our arts… and excel at our magic."

The man's smile faltered slightly. "But no matter how much we practiced, we were never able to become as powerful as those before us… like Nergal."

Roy's eyes widened slightly at the name. "Nergal?"

The man nodded. "Back when he was still alive, we were followers of his. Though we witnessed his power first-hand, we never knew how to become more like him."

"Roy," Nils spoke. "You have to get out of here right now!"

Roy needed no further instruction. He quickly ran for the staircase, knowing full well that these mages were going to cause nothing but trouble for him. He was a few feet from the first step when a huge bolt of lightning struck the ground at his feet, forcing him to stop. He looked up to the man who was now holding a tome in his hands.

"Now now, it's not polite to leave during someone's story time," he spoke slowly. "I suggest you stay where you are. Let me finish my story…"

Roy grit his teeth. He knew if he tried to escape again, he would be struck by a spell. These people were powerful and he was clearly outnumbered.

"As I was saying," the man continued. "We didn't know how to become more like him. And then, one day, we noticed something… the incredible power of Quintessence."

"Do you know what Quintessence does to a person? How much more _powerful_ a man can become with even just a little bit of it? Or how insanely strong many people can become with a lot of it? Say…six people?"

Roy's heart skipped a beat at the sudden realization. "Gods," he whispered. "You can only get it by taking it from someone… don't tell me, those missing ships were all-?"

The man laughed. "You really are as sharp as they say," he said. "Yes. It was us. Shipwrecks full of crew members… their bodies ripped to shreds by the tides and stony shore of the island, and their Quintessence is sent straight to us. Then we create worse storms, and more people wash up dead here. It's a rather efficient cycle, wouldn't you say?"

The redhead could feel his stomach tighten slightly, but his demeanor remained relatively calm as he stared at the mage.

"But we need more. What we've got now isn't enough, and imagine our surprise when we come to the Dragon's Gate, only to find a manakete here? It's like we were sent a gift straight from the heavens, really—you're like a font of power."

There was a sudden thump of pain in the front of Roy's mind, like it was being crushed in a vise-grip. He let out a strained cry and fell to one knee as his hands desperately grabbed at his hair.

"Roy!" Nils called out from the gate.

"That's good, little manakete," the man almost cooed. "You know, Dark magic is very useful. Even though you've only got a little bit of dragon's blood in your veins, it's still enough that spells like this will cause you more pain than a normal human would have to endure."

Roy let out another cry of pain and clenched his teeth tightly. His hands gripped his head and he crumpled over as waves of pain washed over his body.

"We could kill you now, you know, and steal your Quintessence. You do have a lot of it to share," the mage taunted. "But that's not really fun, now is it?"

"You know, I've never had a puppet. I've always wanted one. You're not a complete dragon… so I wonder how hard it would be for us to pull your strings, like Nergal did with your mother."

With those words, something seemed to snap in Roy's mind. His head twitched upward, as if struggling against the force of the magic on his brain, and his eyes flickered. There seemed to be a fire building inside of him as his mind twisted.

"Ahh, that's the look I was hoping for," the man said and grinned. "You're so calm on the outside, but on the inside, you're still a dragon—press enough buttons and that beast is sure to burst forth."

Another force gripped his mind, which enticed another strangled cry from the young lion. His eyes screwed shut and his breathing quickened from the pain. There was a burning feeling inside of his mind and a clawing feeling ripping at the outside, like two powers were fighting for dominance over him—the intruding magic, and something from within him.

However, that all came to a stop when the six mages clenched their outstretched fists. The claws at his mind tore into him and a sharp ache paused his entire being. His eyes were stuck wide and his fingers had gone limp in his hair.

"ROY!" Nils' voice echoed out from the gate.

The man smiled. "I don't think he can hear you," he answered. "You should see how dull his eyes look right now—like a real puppet, if I do say so myself."

"Say, Roy, could you stand for us?" he asked.

Roy's body twitched slightly, as if it was trying to process the request. Slowly he rose to his feet with his head bowed. His eyes were dead and his body was numb.

"Good dragon," the mage said with a grin. "Now how about you open that gate for us?"

Roy slowly turned to the gate.

"It won't work," Nils said. "You can't open the gate from the outside."

"Who said we needed to open it from the outside?" the mage responded with a light laugh. "Roy, point your sword to your chest."

Nils was shocked. "You wouldn't," he said.

The man grinned more. "I would."

Roy had raised his sword and pointed it to his own chest by that point. He still faced the gate and his eyes bore into the sealed stone.

"Open the gate, or he dies."


	2. Prologue II: White

**Free tinfoil hats to anyone that reads!  
**

**Prologues are fun. This one is shorter than the first because of reasons...  
Nils! /panic  
**

**I do not own the rights to Fire Emblem or any of the FE characters, that all goes to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.**

**Thanks again to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading, And thank you Gorbash for the review on Prologue I!  
**

* * *

**Prologue II: White**

_"Open the gate, or he dies."_

The words lingered in the air and the tension was so thick, it could be cut with a knife.

After a few moments of silence, the mage spoke up again. "Come now, you wouldn't let your sister's son die, would you? Especially not on your watch."

Nils clicked his tongue in frustration. ". . . Alright, I'll open the gate."

There was a pulse of magical energy as the gate began to glow. The lead mage grinned viciously as he watched the portal form between the pillars of the Dragon's Gate, illuminating the dusty old walls of the chamber.

"It's beautiful," the mage whispered. "And it contains such immeasurable power…"

There was a loud and hollow groaning sound as a small figure started to form in front of the portal. The glow quickly took shape into the form of a young male with blue-green hair and dark red eyes. His eyes instantly locked on the cloaked man, who was still standing on his perch atop the pillar.

"You have what you want—the portal is open," Nils said, "Now release your hold on Roy."

The man quirked his eyebrow at this. "Release him? I didn't say I was going to do that…"

Nils furrowed his brow and glared at the man. "Don't go back on your word!"

"I'm a man of my word, that much I can assure you," he replied smoothly, "I didn't say I would release him. I said open the gate or he dies. You opened the gate… so he won't die. At least not by our hands."

Roy suddenly lunged at Nils with his sword raised. Nils nimbly ducked out of the way and the blade cut through the air with a metallic noise.

"Gods—Roy!" Nils yelled, clearly taken off-guard by the sudden attack.

A dark laugh echoed around the chamber. "Let's see how this new puppet plays. Maybe he could even slay a manakete!"

With a flick of the hand, the mage forced Roy to move again. He attacked and chased after Nils, who continually dodged every blow, without hesitation. Roy's sword had been set ablaze with a clear intent to kill. After a particularly close call with the burning sword whizzing past Nils' face, he jumped back to create some distance between him and his attacker.

"Roy, snap out of it!" the bard shouted. "These people are using you!"

"There's nothing you can say that will stop him," the man spoke in obvious amusement. "You are not Eliwood—even though you are family to him, your words still mean nothing in the end."

The young manakete was quickly growing exhausted and increasingly frustrated as he kept dodging his nephew's assaults. Nils was never one for fighting—he would much rather play his flute than swing a sword, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep the dodging game up for much longer. Therefore, he made one last attempt to free Roy from the grasp of the mages' magic:

_"Roy!"_

The young lion, eyes void of any emotion, did not respond and his blade sliced through the air again. Instead of jumping away, however, Nils only ducked before sending a fist straight into Roy's gut. The impact caused the latter to cough harshly and stumble back a few steps, allowing Nils to follow up his first hit with a swift roundhouse kick Roy's side. Roy flew across the platform and tumbled across the tiled ground, his sword knocking loose from his hand.

"Tch, that's enough," the mage hissed as he readied a Bolting tome, "This is getting old. We will kill you if the puppet can't."

"I don't plan on dying here," Nils retorted, staring down Roy's form through the clouds of dust as he slowly pulled himself to his feet.

"No one ever plans to die when they're acting the hero," the mage taunted. "But not every story ends happily. Yours will be a sorrowful end!"

By the time the dust had cleared, Roy had stood up and was heading towards Nils, his blazing sword once again in-hand.

Nils, realizing he was low on time, was forced to make a difficult decision—either escape through the portal himself, or…

"I can't…!" he muttered through clenched teeth.

Nils quickly turned away from his nephew and dashed towards the Dragon's Gate. This was his last chance—either stop Roy here, or die trying. He stopped mere feet from the gate and spun around, readying something in his tightened hand.

Roy's pace quickened and he ran at the bard once more, his sword held back and ready to strike. As he brought his sword around, Nils grabbed his arm tightly, locking them in a stalemate. The incredible force behind Roy's swing caused Nils' arm to tremble, but the young manakete held his ground. He pressed an object to Roy's chest with his other hand and firmly stared into his lifeless eyes.

"I'm sorry I have to do this, Roy, but I have no choice," he spoke.

"Enough of this!" the lead mage yelled and raised his tome. The others raised their tomes as well, poised to cast their spells. "We'll kill you both now!"

Time seemed to slow down as all six mages cast their spells—a mix of Bolting, Elfire, and Aircalibur—at the two below. Nils pulled Roy to the side with determined eyes and yelled something that Roy was unable to hear before shoving him hard.

Suddenly, Roy's mind was freed and all he felt was excruciating pain.

Then everything went white.


	3. Chapter I: The Light at the Harbor

**Hella! Chapter I time. I'm amazed at my own writing speed for this...  
Have all the tinfoil hats you need.  
Also, from this point on, WARNING: FIRE EMBLEM: SHADOW DRAGON SPOILERS AHEAD. 'Cause that's where we're going with this story (with my own spin on the plot, of course).**

**I don't own Fire Emblem/the FE characters, they belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems (and I love them very much for making them).**

**Thank you to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading (seriously it makes my whole life) and once again thanks Gorbash for your review!**

* * *

**Chapter I: The Light at the Harbor**

The young prince Marth, exhausted yet relieved that his most recent bout—one against a group of unpleasant pirates who had been ravaging the ports of Galder—had ended in victory, walked down the stony roads of the town and checked on the townspeople and his army. Though there was some struggle at first, Marth had been able to successfully rout the enemies in the area whilst simultaneously recruiting more people into his ranks. Ogma, Bord, Barst, and Cord all joined him as soon as the skirmish had started; their loyalty was declared swiftly and Marth gratefully accepted their assistance. Castor and Darros were both fine men that ended up on the wrong side of the battlefield, but with the prince's understanding of Darros and Caeda's taking pity on Castor, they were both turned around and fought alongside the small army to free the port.

"Thank you again for all of your help," Marth spoke to the group of new recruits. "Your assistance has helped us free the people here…"

"No, thank you sire for allowing someone such as myself fight alongside you and Princess Caeda, even after my initial betrayal…" responded Castor.

Marth smiled. "Castor, your heart is in the right place. I can assure you that neither I nor Princess Caeda bear you any ill will."

The bowman quietly nodded before casting his gaze downward again.

After Marth dismissed himself from the group, Caeda approached him.

"Marth," she greeted.

Marth smiled at her. "Hello Caeda… is there something you needed?"

She nodded. "Yes. There is elderly man here that wishes to speak with you… he came here from a house on the outskirts."

"Ah. I'll go see him, then," Marth said. "Is the matter urgent?"

"Yes, he says so," Caeda responded. "I'll show you to him."

The two walked together to an old house near the edge of town, where an elderly man was waiting along with a younger villager. As soon as the prince came into view, the elder perked up with anticipation.

"You're here!" he exclaimed.

Marth nodded once and stood a few feet away. "Yes… I heard you had something urgent to tell me?"

"Yes, yes… Prince of Altea," he started, his voice growing grim. "Could you please help us? A woman from this town, Sister Lena, went up to the Ghoul's Teeth to tend to the sick there and she has yet to return. She is an angel to us, and we could not live with ourselves if something were to happen to her. We would go to find her ourselves, but…"

The prince was rather alarmed. "Yes, of course. We must travel through Samsooth Mountains on our way to Aurelis, anyway, and if she is in danger, we will rescue her."

The younger villager shifted his weight and scratched the back of his head. "The Ghoul's Teeth… they're dangerous mountains, sire. The Soothsire bandits call those mountains home, and they would kill you without even battin' an eye."

"I have heard of them," Marth responded with a small nod, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "But the best path to Aurelis is through there, and we must not hesitate. Besides… we definitely cannot ignore it if there is a young woman there in trouble."

Both the villagers seemed relieved to hear such an answer.

"Thank you so much, Prince Marth," the elder said and held out a pouch. "Please take this…this should be enough gold to cover for anything you need to find her."

Marth gratefully accepted the gold. "Thank you… it will not go to waste."

A short while passed as Marth and his army made sure that the port was rid of the pirates. Once everything was considered safe for the villagers to once again return, the young prince, along with Cain and Abel, headed out into the fields to survey the area.

"We will leave early in the morning," Marth said, looking over the grassy terrain. "But tonight, we should rest… it has been a long day for everyone."

"That sounds like a plan to me," said Cain with a smile. "It looks like it's going to rain here anyway."

Marth nodded in agreement as he looked up to the sky. There were dark clouds looming overhead—a sure sign that storms were coming. The bluenette let a small sigh escape his lips as he allowed his gaze to fall back down to the grass. Abel looked over to his young lord, a small smile gracing his features.

"Sire, there's no need for the long face," he said, causing Marth to look up to him. "We will reclaim Altea… I am sure of it."

Marth was quiet for a moment before smiling a little as well. "Yes…" he spoke slowly as he looked up to the sky once more. "Though there are dark clouds in the sky, there is nothing but a shining future ahead of us. Today, we took our first steps towards reclaiming our homeland."

The cavaliers smiled at one another before looking up at the sky as well. The breeze blew from behind them, the scent of rain lingering in the air. After a few moments, the once calm atmosphere began to feel rather unsettling and charged.

". . . Do you feel that?" Cain asked.

"It feels like magic," Abel responded.

Marth looked around with his brow furrowed. "We are in the middle of an open field… if there were any enemies, they would not be able to hide. They would be out in the open just as we are."

Abel readied his javelin and slowly trotted his horse forward. "Sire, please stay behind me," he said.

Marth looked to Abel. "Abel, you mustn't—"

Just as the prince began to speak, a large explosion echoed throughout the sky, followed by a blinding light. All three covered their ears and clenched their eyes as the wind sucked up into the sky like a vacuum. Cain and Abel's horses reared back with loud neighs, nearly throwing both of the cavaliers off.

"Gods—Cain! Abel!" Marth yelled out to his friends, but his voice was swallowed by the roaring wind.

Suddenly, the wind stopped. Marth stumbled forward and looked up to the sky, his eyes squinted nearly shut. But as soon as he beheld the sight, his eyes shot open. All of the storm clouds had been sucked into a condensed ball of energy above them, and it looked like it was about to burst.

"Cain! Abel! Get down!" Marth cried out before ducking low to the ground.

Upon seeing the orb in the sky, the aforementioned cavaliers practically leapt off of their horses to get on the ground. There was a loud cracking sound before the ball of clouds exploded.

All of the wind and energy sucked into it was expelled from it once again, rushing through the sky and fields. The trees that had once dotted the fields were quickly blown over or snapped in two from the force of the wind. Bolts of lightning and spurts of flame shot out from the epicenter of the blast.

Marth could barely lift his head against the incredible power of the wind and his fingers dug into the ground. He struggled to look up to the sky, but once he finally could, what he saw both amazed and terrified him.

_"Gods…what is this?!"_ he thought, shaken.

A huge fireball shot out from the center of the energy, travelling far across the fields ahead of them. It crashed into the ground and skidded through the grass, leaving a long path of scorched earth in its wake. Not long after, the remaining energy dissipated from the skies and the wrath of the elements had ceased.

Shakily, the young prince pushed himself to his feet. His two friends soon followed suit, with Cain stumbling slightly as he tried to regain his footing. All of them were out of breath.

"Wh... what… _was _that?" Abel breathed out, his voice barely audible.

"I… I don't know…" Marth mumbled, still in shock.

There was a stunned silence between the three of them as they all tried to process the event that just unfolded before them. Abruptly, Marth straightened up and grabbed hold of his sheath. "Cain, go check on the town! Abel, come with me! We need to check where that ball of fire landed!"

Cain, still slightly shaken, nodded and mounted his horse before taking off back to the town.

Abel looked to the prince. "G-go there? Sire, we don't know what could be there!"

Marth nodded and looked to him. "Maybe so, but this was in no way a natural event, and those flames soared quite far! If it is indeed something dangerous, we cannot let it roam these lands freely."

The green-haired cavalier stared at Marth for a moment before letting out a slow sigh. "Yes. You are right," he said with a curt nod. "Alright. Let us go then, sire."

Abel mounted his horse once more and he and Marth made their way across the field to where the ball of flame had first touched the ground.

"Incredible… Everything is charred…" Abel spoke with worry.

"Yes… stay on your guard, Abel," Marth advised, his grip tightening on the hilt of his blade. "We do not know what awaits us at the end of this charred trail."

The duo crept along the side of the burnt streak, their steps hesitant and wary. When they neared the end, Marth noticed a figure lying on the ground, still cloaked in the clearing smoke. Once they were but a short distance away, the prince was able to make out the figure as human.

"Gods, there's a person in there!" he observed, astonished. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran over to the seemingly lifeless person lying amongst the cinders and debris.

"Wait, Prince Marth!" Abel yelled out with his hand outstretched. "Ah… it could be dangerous…"

Marth completely ignored Abel as he approached the figure.

Who he saw was a young man with flaming red hair, wounded and unconscious.


	4. Chapter II: Sealed Memories

**Holy crap, finals are finally over and I can breathe again. Also it's past 3am and I wanted to finish this chapter and post it because it's been far too long since the last update.  
Thankfully the break gave me lots of time to make tinfoil hats. Here, have some.**

**Again: Shadow Dragon, Fuuin no Tsurugi, and Rekka no Ken spoilers for the rest of this story.**

**Also, I wrote this whole chapter whilst listening to Id ~ Serenity. Seriously, it fits. It's weird but awesome. I would suggest listening to it while reading.  
****I don't own Fire Emblem/the FE characters, they belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems (and I love them very much for making them).**

**Thank you to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading (you are my savior), and thank you to Gunlord500, Gorbash, Beep-boop, yop, and SeneSin for reviewing! And thank you to everyone that's fav'd/followed this so far!**

* * *

**Chapter II: Sealed Memories**

The sudden burst of magic and wind had been surprising—'surprising' being an understatement—to Prince Marth. Of course, even with how surprising the initial magical outbreak was, finding the unconscious body of a young man lying amongst the charred rubble of one of the fireballs was even more astounding.

Since discovering the redhead, Marth and Abel had brought him back to one of the homes along the port at Galder, where they had laid him in a bed. Marth watched from the other side of the room as Wrys healed the mysterious person's injuries.

"He doesn't… look like he is from Altea," Abel spoke hesitantly.

Marth shook his head. "No, he does not. But he also does not look like he hails from any other place, either. At least that I have seen…"

"He kind of looks like a mercenary," noted Castor. "If he does not claim any homeland… then I would not be surprised if he truly is just a mercenary."

Abel frowned in contemplation. "Yes, but did you see his blade? Surely no mercenary would have a blade so…intricate, unless he was _incredibly_ skilled."

Abel's comment caused Marth to turn his gaze towards the strange sword the redhead had been carrying when they found him. A hilt made of pure gold, encrusted with two pure sapphires and a strip of emerald.

And of course, the radiant red jewel in the middle.

It wasn't a ruby—Marth knew that for certain. It was like nothing he had ever seen before and it gave him a tight feeling in his chest.

". . . Marth?" Cain said with his eyebrow quirked, causing Marth to turn his attention to him.

"Yes, Cain?" Marth responded.

"You seemed pretty lost in thought, there," he said. "Is something wrong? Do you know about the sword?"

To this, Marth only shook his head. He didn't know anything, but he felt enough of that uncomfortable twinge in his chest that he could not speak the actual words.

Soon, Wrys had finished healing the young man. "He is no longer hurt," he said and turned to Marth. "His condition is fair now, so he could wake up at any time."

"That's good, thank you Wrys," the young prince responded with a smile. The healer nodded and exited the room.

There were a few moments of silence as the small group stood by the door, unsure of what to say.

". . . So you said he… came from that ball of fire in the sky?" Cain asked.

"Yes. Either that, or he happened to be hit by it as he was walking through the field," Marth answered.

"I would assume he got hit whilst walking," Abel said. "There's no way someone could just… appear out of thin air in a fireball from the sky."

"That does seem far-fetched," Marth agreed. "I suppose we shall find out when he wakes."

* * *

A couple of hours passed and all of the group had dispersed aside from Marth. He had gone out only one more time to check on the state of his allies and the people of the harbor, but he had been quick to return to the small house in which the mysterious young man was still resting.

The young prince found himself growing ever so slightly restless. He was not upset by the other's unconscious state—he was worried by it. What if he had sustained injuries that one could not heal? He did get struck by a ball of fire, after all.

With soft steps, Marth made his way over to the bedside. He looked down at the redhead's face.

". . . He seems so different," he whispered.

Suddenly, there was the sound of sheets shifting. The unconscious one clenched his eyes slightly before letting out a low groan. Marth blinked a few times and his eyes widened slightly.

A pair of icy-blue eyes were tiredly looking back up at him.

There were a few stunned moments of silence as the prince stared back down into those cool blue eyes.

Marth was at a loss for words. His lips pursed, a sudden feeling of nervousness washing over him. He had waited quite some time for the other to wake, but now that he had woken, Marth had no idea of what to say.

". . . Where… am I?" spoke a quiet, groggy voice, effectively snapping the prince back into reality.

"A-ah," Marth stood up a bit straighter. "You are in a house on the port of Galder…"

The redhead stared up at the prince with hazy eyes and a confused expression.

". . . Galder," Marth spoke a bit more slowly. "It is a port town here near the island of Talys."

Again the prince was met with nothing but a confused stare. This caused him to frown a little.

"I see… so you don't remember where you are," he mulled quietly. ". . . Do you have a name?"

There was a long silence, as if the redhead was trying to remember.

". . . Roy…" he said slowly.

The prince smiled a little bit at that. "Roy… a unique name," he commented. "Well… I am Marth."

Roy slowly nodded as he processed the new information. "Marth…" he mumbled, doing his best to take note. ". . . What happened to me?"

"Some friends and I found you unconscious in the plains not far from here," Marth explained as simply as he could. "You had been struck with a rather large ball of fire… so we rescued you and brought you back here to heal."

"A ball of fire?" Roy repeated, as if he couldn't believe it. "I… don't understand…"

Marth shook his head. "I'm not quite sure how to explain it any other way…" he said quietly. "That is how it happened."

Roy was silent for a few more moments before slowly nodding. He slowly began to sit up. The prince quickly rested his hand on Roy's back to help him.

"Be careful, you sustained many injuries… we had you healed, but it is still best not to push yourself too hard so soon," he advised.

"I should be fine enough to sit up…" Roy responded softly. "I'm not feeling any pain, other than my head."

Marth nodded a little and the door to the room opened.

"Marth, si—oh!" came Abel's voice, causing both Marth and Roy to look to the door. "It seems you've finally woken up."

"Abel," the prince greeted with a smile. "Yes, Roy just woke up."

The green-haired cavalier nodded. "Roy, huh? Well… my name is Abel," he said as he walked into the room. "I'm glad to see you're doing alright. You took quite the hit out there."

Roy nodded slowly and Marth smiled. "Is there something you needed of me, Abel?"

"Yes, actually," Abel responded with a curt nod. "Could you come with me for a moment? I've a question for you about tomorrow's move."

"Of course. I'll be right out," the prince answered.

Abel smiled and nodded once more before leaving the room. Marth looked to Roy.

"I will be back soon, but for now, please make sure to rest," he said before he stood. "Please excuse me."

With that, Marth turned and left the room, leaving Roy by himself. The young lion stared at the door as it closed behind the bluenette.

There were a few long moments of silence as Roy quietly stared, fixated on the grain in the wood as he did his best to try to remember anything.

Anything at all.

…

Nothing came to mind.

He strained, clenching his eyes as he dug deep into his mind in an attempt to figure out anything.

Still, absolutely nothing. There was nothing but a dull, throbbing pain.

He couldn't remember a thing—it was like his past had all been sealed away into some dark corner of his mind that he just couldn't reach.

Roy let out a strained sigh before gripping his hair. "What happened to me…" he muttered.

The time that Marth was gone felt like ages. Roy slowly lifted his head from his hand and looked around the room once more, noticing a sword—_his_ sword, though he didn't know this now—leaned against the wall by the bed, safely tucked in its sheath. This caused him to squint. A few more moments went by before he let out a quiet sigh.

". . . I… cannot lie in this bed any longer," he said quietly as he moved to touch his feet to the floor.

Just as he was going to stand, Marth once again entered the room, this time accompanied by a young woman with hair as blue as his own. Marth blinked slowly and hurried to Roy's side when he noticed he was going to stand.

"Roy…! Hold on…!" Marth exclaimed as he rested his hand on Roy's shoulder. "Don't rush yourself."

"I will be fine," responded Roy. "I need to get up…."

Marth was hesitant to allow him to stand, but he removed his hand anyway. The redhead rose to his feet slowly and something small tumbled out from his shirt and fell to the floor with a soft clatter. All of their gazes shifted to the object on the floor.

A small stone, slightly chipped and jagged, rested on the old wood floor.

Marth furrowed his brow. ". . . What is that?" he asked before looking to Roy.

The redhead slowly knelt to the floor before carefully picking up the stone. He eyed it, turning it over a few times. Its reflective surface glinted and shined a bit in the light.

". . . I'm not sure," was his confused response. He rose to his feet again, his eyes never leaving the stone. "I don't remember."

The younger woman came over to him and looked at the stone herself. "I don't think I've seen anything like it before," she said. "But it doesn't look dangerous… it's just a small stone."

Marth nodded. "I didn't think it would be dangerous, but it is curious," he said. "Well… either way, it is a memento of yours, is it not?"

Roy nodded dumbly, his eyes still fixated on the stone in his hand. A small sharp pain went through his mind.

_A fuzzy silhouette was right in front of him and Roy was unable to move, as if someone was holding him still._

_"…. s… go… t of… y…!"_

_ A force hit him and he went flying back. The already unclear surroundings were sucked away into whiteness._

A pained groan left Roy's throat as he gripped his forehead with his free hand. The hand holding the stone tightened around it and his knees went weak. Marth was a little alarmed and put his hand on Roy's shoulder to keep him from falling over.

"Are you okay?" he asked, clearly worried.

"Y… yes… just a headache…" Roy answered slowly before raising his head again. The prince removed his hand once Roy was able to stand on his own again.

"Caeda, could you please bring Wrys back? Perhaps he has a medicine to help alleviate Roy's headache," Marth said to her.

Caeda nodded. "Of course. I'll go get him."

She left the room, leaving the two men by themselves. Marth let out a quiet sigh and Roy looked to him.

"Well… I am glad you are at least able to move around," the bluenette spoke and smiled slightly at Roy. "We were all worried you wouldn't make it at first."

Roy smiled slightly at that. "Apparently a fireball isn't enough to take me down…" he replied.

Marth chuckled a little. "It seems so."

There were a few moments of silence between them before Marth spoke again.

"Say…. Roy," he started. "Are you… a mercenary, by chance?"

This question caused the redhead to blink. "A… mercenary?"

"Yes, a mercenary," Marth reaffirmed with a nod. "As in, someone who pledges no allegiance to any particular country, kingdom, or army… but rather, can be employed to work for anyone he chooses."

"Ah… I might be…" Roy said. "Why do you ask?"

Marth was quiet for a moment. ". . . Well, you do look like one," he began. "Your clothes don't seem to match any country's I've seen… as if you are your own person without any ties. And that sword is definitely not that of an ordinary soldier's or traveler's. It must have cost a small fortune… and skilled mercenaries are paid rather well."

Roy looked to the sword against the wall and then down to his own clothes. "I… suppose," he started before looking back up to him. "I do not pledge any allegiance to any country as far as I am aware…"

The prince stared into the other's eyes for a moment, as if analyzing the truthfulness of him and his words. He slowly nodded.

"Alright," he finally said. "In that case… how would you like to work for me? To save my kingdom and my sister?"

Roy seemed surprised by the question. "You would trust me enough to let me… join you?"

Marth nodded. "You have not given me a reason to distrust you," he responded. "Therefore I see no reason to rule you out as a potential comrade."

It took Roy, the newly-dubbed mercenary, a few moments to process the prince's words. He slowly looked to Marth again before nodding a little.

"Then… I accept."

A smile formed on the young prince's lips. "I am glad to hear it. We will be leaving for the Samsooth Mountains in the morning… so I suggest you get some rest."

A small flicker of opposition flashed in Roy's eyes since he clearly did not want to lie back down on the bed. This caused Marth to laugh gently.

"Please, it is for your own well-being," he insisted.

Roy stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a small sigh. "Yes… I suppose you are right."

The mercenary sat back down on the bed and Marth turned to him.

"Well… I will see you in the morning," he said. "Wrys should come by soon to hopefully help you with your headache."

Roy nodded in understanding and Marth turned to leave. The redhead watched him as he left the room again, closing the door behind him. After he knew Marth was a safe distance away, he let out a groan as he fell back against the bed.

"… Who even am I?"


	5. Chapter III: Crushed Maw

**Hello once again! I'm really excited to be able to post another chapter! The Fire Emblem: If/Fates OST has been pulling me through to the end of this chapter, it's an absolutely incredible OST!  
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**Chapter title is a play on the fact that the Samsooth Mountains are also called the Ghoul's Teeth, and teeth are in mouths, and maws are mouths... yeah...** **I figured it would be better than recycling "A Brush in the Teeth," lmfao. That chapter name made me snort when I played Shadow Dragon...  
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**Again: Shadow Dragon, Fuuin no Tsurugi, and Rekka no Ken spoilers for the rest of this story!**  
**Thank you to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading (you really are my savior, thank you so much)! And thank you to everyone that's reviewed, fav'd, and followed this so far! I'm amazed really that so many people have done so so far, I wasn't expecting it...  
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* * *

**Chapter III: Crushed Maw**

The atmosphere was a little bit more relaxed when they finally set out to the Samsooth Mountains the next morning. The small army was quiet, only mumbling amongst one another rarely, but the sound of horse hooves and clanking armor was enough to keep things from falling too awkwardly silent.

However, even with these noises, Roy still found himself feeling nothing _but_ awkward. He knew nothing of the faces that surrounded him, the grass beneath his feet, the tapering mountains by his sides, or even the sky above his head. It was all so foreign to him—even his new title of "mercenary" seemed alien to him, like that wasn't who he really was. He supposed the bill fit him, since he claimed no homeland and he most definitely did not fit in the visual norm of his new comrades, but it still just felt wrong.

With a slight shake of the head, Roy tried to clear his mind. He looked ahead of him, watching the slightly billowing cape of the prince that was walking not but ten paces in front of him. He introduced himself as Marth, the castaway prince from a land called Altea. Roy found Marth interesting; he was young, maybe only a year or two older than Roy himself, and here he was, building an army to reclaim his homeland.

And of course, Roy was now in this army, for one reason or another. He figured it was for the better, seeing as though he had no idea where he was and apparently there was enough of a language gap that some of the others would ask him to rephrase his sentences every now and then. Without being in a group, he would more than likely be even more helplessly lost than he currently was. The prince's group had saved him and healed him, so fighting alongside them for a time was the least that he could do to repay them, especially since he had nowhere else to go.

As the group managed its way up winding hills and craggy paths, Roy could feel the air begin to thin and cool. He had begun to take slightly shallower breaths and it was clear to him that this was a type of terrain he wasn't quite used to. The grass crunched mutedly under the pressure of boots and hooves as they proceeded, and they soon found themselves at a fork in the path. At this, Marth raised his hand to halt them.

The young prince turned to face them. "Believe it or not, this is only the foot of the mountain," he said, mostly to Roy. "We've still a ways to go, and there are two paths… though I do not know which tactic would be for our benefit."

Caeda trotted forward on her Pegasus. "Marth, the passages sweep around the mountains and connect on the other side. Perhaps we could split the forces in two and meet back together once we've rounded these spires?"

Marth thought about her proposition and nodded slowly. "If they connect back together again, then perhaps that is the best idea. There may be forces on either side—to leave many bandits behind could be grounds for trouble later on."

The group agreed with Marth's thoughts on the matter and soon, he, with the direction of Jagen and Malledus, began to divvy up members into two groups: one group that would head north through a short and narrow passage, and one that would go west through a large field. Caeda would be the one to lead the northbound group and Marth would lead the westbound group.

Roy watched in silence as Marth went around to each individual member of the army, telling them which group they would be in. As Marth made his way around, Roy thought that surely he would be put in the group with Caeda due to him being such a new recruit. A few minutes later, Marth came to Roy.

"Roy," Marth began. "You will be with my group heading west."

This came as a slight surprise for Roy. "Really?"

Marth simply nodded. "I had Cain and Abel check ahead on each route. The western field seems home to more brutal characters than those to the north, so I will need all the power I can get to fight back against them."

That made sense, Roy thought with nothing but an understanding nod in response. This caused Marth to smile and bow his head slightly before heading away once again. Not much longer went by before all units were assigned to a group and started to split up. Roy made his way over to his group, which consisted of Marth, Wrys, Jagen, Ogma, Darros, Bord, Barst, Abel, and himself. Marth had definitely chosen those with more brute strength for his side.

After a brief explanation of strategy, the small group set off through the field. It didn't take long for them to face opposition in the form of fighters and hunters. Arrows whizzed past their heads and axes clashed against swords as they were hit with the first wave of enemies.

Even though there were many of them, Roy was largely unimpressed by their attacks—they had no coordination and it was obvious none of them had ever been trained, so it was easy for him to avoid most of their swings and cut them down as they came at him.

The sky had long since clouded over and droplets of rain began to sprinkle down on them. Roy glanced up to the sky, taking note of the slowly darkening clouds before turning his attention back to the fight at hand once more. A burly man armed with an iron axe ran at him before he let out an almost barbaric yell as he swung his axe down at Roy. Roy quickly swung his sword above him to block the blow of the axe. Even though his initial block was successful, he was caught off-guard when he felt the incredible power of the man's knee jam itself into his gut. He let out a pained grunt and slumped forward slightly, which allowed his attacker to grab him by the neck and throw him down violently against the ground.

Roy's breath caught in his throat and he let out a choked cry as the back of his head hit the rough dirt beneath him. The enemy hovered above him, his rough hand still clamping tight around Roy's throat. He let out a disgusting laugh—one full of conceit and hatred—as he raised his axe once again.

"Stupid damn kid," he growled through missing teeth, "I'll kill yer ass for what you did to the others!"

He continued to talk—probably about something with language even more vulgar than before—but Roy could barely make out a word over the loud ringing in his ears. His vision was speckled with black and his upper lip twitched as he gnashed his teeth together. As he saw the man tighten his grip on his axe, he knew that surely this would be the way he died; to think it was all because of one damn knee to the gut.

"Hah, I would tell you to say your last words, but it looks like you can't talk now can ya!" the man yelled as he laughed. "I'll be sure to make it as painful as possible for you."

"Not on my watch!" came Marth's voice, the gentle yet courageous tone penetrating through the haze that had its hold on Roy's head.

There was the sickening sound of metal piercing through flesh and cracking bone as Marth stabbed through the Soothsire's back. Roy could barely see it, but he could feel it as the grip on his throat loosened and the foreboding shadow that was once above him disappeared into a slump off to his right side. He gasped a little for breath and Marth quickly came to his side to help him sit up.

"Roy, can you hear me? Are you alright?" came Marth's quick words.

"I—I'm fine," Roy spoke between breaths. He winced and went to stand with Marth's help, wobbling slightly as he tried to regain his footing. "Thank you for… saving me there."

Marth nodded. "Of course. I can't have you dying here, can I?" he responded and smiled slightly. "We're almost all the way through. Their fortress should be just around the bend."

It took Roy only a couple of minutes to recover from the blow he had taken, thanks to a healing hand from Wrys. There weren't many enemies left on the field by the time Wrys had finished, and Roy noticed Marth speaking with a young woman in robes as well as a young man that was with her.

The girl must have been who they came here to get, Roy thought to himself. He dropped his stare to the sword in his hand; the blade was still stained with blood. With a few good swings, most of the blood managed to spatter off of his sword and onto the earth beneath him. The body of his attempted-killer still laid on the ground by his feet and Roy couldn't help but frown. He turned and walked away from the scene before it allowed itself any extra time in his mind, for there were much more important things to worry about now that he was safe from death.

Thankfully, the sprinkling of rain from earlier had subsided for the time being as Marth brought everyone from his group together once again. Roy learned that the two Marth had been talking to just moments earlier were named Lena and Julian—Julian being an ex-Soothsire, and Lena being the one that Roy had briefly been informed about on their way to the Ghoul's Teeth.

Under the direction of Marth, Malledus, and Jagen, the small force formed a v-shaped 'wall' as it made its way to the fortress. Their new formation made a good barrier against the few enemies that were left, and in no time, they were at the entrance to the Soothsire's fortress. A dark snort and laugh caught the attention of the group, and they all raised their gazes to the source. On top of the fortress' outer walls stood a man, roughed up and shirtless with his arms folded across his chest. He wore a timeworn green bandana around his head and a grossly angry smirk was on his face.

"You really must wanna die, comin' to the Soothsire's palace unbidden!" he shouted from atop his perch.

"This is nothing like a palace," remarked Marth. "Your forces have fallen and there is nothing but a few of you remaining, including yourself. You are outnumbered and have been outwitted."

This caused the man's smirk to flash into a deep scowl. "I would watch yer mouth, dainty lad," he growled and jumped down. He landed his feet on the ground with a thump, though the high fall did not seem to faze him. "You look more like someone who'd have his nails painted with polish than with blood."

Marth's lips pursed into a frown, his grip tightening on his rapier. It was clear that the man's comment had hit a small nerve, which made him laugh. "If you wanna prove me wrong, then come at me! Fight, you damn kid! See if you can get lucky against me!"

At this, another group of Soothsires, presumably what was still left of them, attacked. Roy found himself once again reading attacks with ease and his sword sliced through skin like a hot knife through butter. The prince ran at the leader and began a fight of his own against him.

Roy would occasionally glance from his own fights to Marth's. It was clear that the man, whose name he had overheard being Reynard, was much more powerful than Marth was, and that Marth was struggling. With a swift swipe of his blade, Roy cut down the last enemy that had come at him before he started to make his way toward Marth. He would need backup against Reynard, that much was certain, and Roy owed it to him for saving his life not just once, but twice now.

A swift kick to the chest sent Marth flying back and tumbling across the ground with a pained cry. Reynard laughed. "Is that really all you've got? You'd be better off in a dress than you would in that armor, lad," he hissed with satisfaction. "Or even better, six feet under!"

Roy had managed to run in whilst Reynard was talking and he took that opportunity to ram himself and the side of his sword into the man with as much strength as he could muster. This sent the Reynard stumbling over with a yell. He gripped at the deep cut in his bicep that had been carved by Roy's sword and blood spilled down his arm.

"You damn brat!" he shouted and ran towards Roy with a swing of his fist, but his new injury slowed him down and Roy was able to duck out of the way. The two of them took part in a tit-for-tat exchange of blows and dodges as Roy did his best to buy Marth some recovery time, which was a courtesy that Marth was very thankful for.

Roy's distracting attacks gave Marth enough time to catch his breath and pull himself up from the ground before he ran at Reynard, his rapier once again poised to strike. With one hasty movement, the man's chest had been ripped open by the slender blade. Blood spattered on Marth's face and clothes and the man fell back against the ground. With a cough, a line of crimson traced itself down his jaw from the corner of his mouth.

"G…hah… damn you…" He muttered. "You… one day… it'll be you…."

Not just blood, but venom dripped from his lips as he spoke those final words before his eyes hazed over. Marth slowly sheathed his rapier once again before he looked to Roy, who was still looking down at Reynard's body.

". . . Thank you," Marth said suddenly, which drew Roy's attention to him. "I had been greatly overpowered… thank you for helping me."

At this, Roy only shook his head. "It's fine. You've saved me twice now, so the least I could do is return the favor."

Marth smiled slightly at that and nodded. The last few Soothsires had been slain and the fortress itself was now void of enemies. Jagen, Abel, Bord, and Barst all went inside to check the halls and rooms to be sure as Wrys healed any injuries the others had sustained. The quiet rumbling of hooves and feet in the distance started to become more apparent as Caeda and her group made their way to the fortress. Marth excused himself from Roy's company and went over to them to speak with them, leaving Roy by himself once again. He stared silently for a moment before looking up at the sky. His eyes narrowed.

It was most definitely going to start raining again. Of all the times for nature to be cruel, it had to be on the battlefield, didn't it?

However, even with the rain coming and the smell of death heavy in the air, his mood was still a bit lighter than it had been just a few hours before. He didn't know who he really was or where he was from, but fighting alongside others was enough to make him feel like he still had a purpose. He was only broken free from his thoughts when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. He looked over to see Jagen walking towards him, holding his horse's reigns in his left hand.

"Roy, would you be willing to help us clear out some of this fortress so we may use it during the storm?" the elderly knight asked.

Roy nodded. "Of course."

He followed after Jagen and entered the old Soothsire fortress. The air inside felt slightly damp and cold against his face, similar to the air outside, but much more still. It did not take long for them to clear out a few rooms and the main hall of debris or other junk and furniture.

"Thank you Roy," Jagen said as Roy walked past him with an armful of old wooden planks. The redhed hummed a little and nodded as he set them down into a pile in one of the far corners. ". . . Tell me something, actually."

The sudden statement caused Roy to blink and look back to Jagen. "Tell you something?"

Jagen stared at Roy hard, his eyes seemingly scanning his in an attempt to catch any sort of hesitation or lie. "Yes… do you really not know anything at all of yourself?"

The question caught Roy off guard. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you really not remember anything at all? Or what are you playing at?" asked Jagen. "You claim to not know anything but your name… but that doesn't make any sense to me."

Roy furrowed his brow at Jagen's words, obviously a little unhappy with the almost-accusing finger being pointed at him. "I am not lying. I really don't remember anything… and if I did, I surely wouldn't keep it from anyone. Especially from the person who saved my life not but a day ago."

Jagen remained silent for a few more moments, but his intense gaze never left Roy's. ". . . Alright," he finally said and turned. "I will be out to see Marth. We'll be spending the night here, though a few of us will have to take guard shifts. I'll be back soon."

With that, the old knight walked out of the hall and out the fortress doors. Roy watched him as he left, his brow still slightly furrowed. ". . . He is not going to trust me for a while, I feel…" he mumbled to himself. Roy glanced down a little. ". . . I suppose I don't blame him… But…."

He let out a small sigh. The night was going to be long, he could tell that much for certain. Perhaps he would be given a guard shift—that actually sounded like a great idea to him. It's not like he would be able to sleep very well anyway, given how there was so much on his mind.

The evening passed fairly quickly after that. The sun had long since set and dark imposing clouds blanketed the sky.

Once, twice, flashes of lightning split those clouds and rumbles of thunder shook the earth slightly. He was on guard duty by his own offer, and though Jagen had been suspicious at first, Marth himself had come to him and convinced him that it would be fine to allow Roy the position.

So here he was, standing under an archway near the main doors, staring out into the rain. The storm was definitely vicious, and Roy found himself captivated by how powerful it had become in just a few short hours.

Another flash of lightning.

His eyes closed as he let in a slow, deep breath. He exhaled quietly with the quaking of the thunder.

The noise from the storm made it hard for him to hear the footsteps approach from behind, but once they were close enough, he glanced back over his shoulder to the source.

Marth smiled gently. "Ah, it seems I wasn't quiet enough, was I?" he spoke softly. Roy smiled a bit and Marth came to his side. "This storm is quite something, isn't it?"

Roy nodded and looked out to the sky again. "Yes, it is… I take it that's why you're here?"

"Yes, in part..." Marth replied, which caused Roy to turn his attention to the young prince once again. "Between the events earlier and the storm raging outside, I was a bit too preoccupied to try to sleep."

This made Roy smirk slightly in sympathetic understanding. "That's why I asked for guard duty…" he mumbled, which made Marth chuckle.

"I figured as much," he said.

A comfortable silence fell between the two as they both stared out at the rain-soaked fields once again. The rain seemed to taper off slightly for a minute or so at a time before returning to its downpour state. The thunder grumbled and lightning lit up the clouds like a flash of fire that was doused almost instantly. Roy let out an inaudible sigh and closed his eyes once more.

Marth glanced to him quietly. He could tell that Roy seemed to be engrossed in his thoughts, but he decided against asking him about it. They had just met, after all, and surely it would be rude to pry into someone's mind after such a short time. His lips curled into a small smile.

"Well… please get some rest soon, Roy," Marth said suddenly. "Jagen should be out within the hour to trade shifts with you…"

Roy opened his eyes wearily and looked to Marth with a small nod. "Right… thank you."

What Marth saw in those eyes seemed to surprise him, just like the day before. They were that cool blue, much lighter than his own, but there seemed to be something else hidden behind them, almost like they glowed softly. It took him a moment to realize that he had started to stare curiously, though Roy didn't seem to mind. Marth's shoulders tensed before he quickly brushed off the odd feeling of uncertainty he was starting to feel in his chest. He began to walk back inside before stopping with his hand on the handle of the door.

". . . Good night, Roy."

"Good night."


	6. Chapter IV: Preparations

**Heyo! Chapter IV time, yeayhhhahah! I'm glad I was able to finish this chapter up, I've got this story planned out tons of chapters ahead so I'm excited to keep it going. I hope you like the newest chapter! ;-;  
Obligatory SPOILERS EVERYWHERE for Shadow Dragon/Rekka no Ken/Fuuin no Tsurugi always with this story.  
**

**I don't own Fire Emblem/the FE characters, they belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems (pls hire me IS so I can draw FE characters 4ever).**

**Thank you to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading (Ilu more than life itself really)! And thank you Gorbash, Lyn Gleason, Dustyfay and Nintend101 for your reviews! And thank you to everyone who's fav'd/followed this! ;v;  
**

* * *

**Chapter IV: Preparations**

As the Altean Army was on its way to Aurelis, it was met with surprise: not long after setting foot in the kingdom, they heard what sounded like another army fast approaching. This turned out to be the case, as Marth and his group were quickly met with opposition in the form of Bentheon's forces. Most of their enemy had been routed within a couple short hours, and all that was left were a handful of soldiers and Bentheon himself.

It was a swift victory as Marth slew Bentheon. Though Bentheon had been powerful and his ridersbane had kept Marth's usual backups of Cain, Jagen, and Abel at bay, Marth had been able to take care of the enemy general with nothing but his rapier. The Altean Army was showered in thanks and gifts of weapons and even gold by the villagers and farmers around the southern castle, for they were relieved to once again be safe from harm.

Upon entering the castle, Marth, along with the small group of Jagen, Malledus, Roy, Cain, and Abel, was greeted with open arms by the castle's elder. In his old, outstretched hands rested a silver sword, one of the most expensive and brilliant weapons a warrior could wield.

"Prince Marth, you have our thanks for liberating the southern castle. Captain Hardin is at the Northern Fortress in Aurelis, protecting lady Nyna and the king. Please deliver this silver sword to him on behalf of us here."

And, with his usual graceful smile, Marth accepted the sword and promised to deliver it to Hardin. Roy was intrigued by the new name—to give someone something as pricey as a silver sword as a gift must mean that they are held in high regard. Knowing this wasn't the time to ask about it, however, he kept himself quiet and only pondered the idea of who this man Hardin might be—though it seemed like they were on track to meeting him soon enough.

The villagers nearby had gratefully lent the army use of their inns that day. Malledus had decided that using the rest of the afternoon and evening to rest and replenish supplies and energy would be the wisest decision for the group, which is something that all of them were thankful for.

Though relaxing was nice, Roy was still a little bit restless. He was seated on a barrel just outside of the inn as he noticed Marth speaking with the two cavaliers, Cain and Abel. Curiosity set in fairly quickly, and although he had averted his eyes, he still listened in on their conversation. Even though he felt a little strange or even guilty for eavesdropping, he couldn't help himself.

"Yes, I've already sent out Ogma and Nabarl to find us some more weapons to replace the ones that were broken in battle, so all that we need now would be vulneraries and the like," Marth said.

Both Cain and Abel seemed glad to do the task.

"Do you mind if anyone else comes along with us?" Abel asked. "Since you will not be?"

Marth smiled at him. "I do not mind at all, no. I would come with you myself, but Merric and I have a little bit to catch up on. It has been a long time since we last saw each other, and he would probably appreciate me letting him know about my sister."

Merric—one of the newest recruits, having just joined during the fight against Bentheon—was one of Marth's friends since childhood, Roy found out. From what he had seen of Merric, he was a fairly eccentric mage, maybe even a little bit showy. It seemed as though he had feelings for Marth's sister, with how he talked about her.

Roy had been deep enough in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Cain's boot steps approach him. "Oi, Roy, would you like to come with me and Abel? We're getting more supplies before we head out again tomorrow."

This caused the redhead to look up to Cain. "Oh, yes, sure," he responded simply with a nod. He rose from his spot on the barrel and Cain smiled at him before heading back over to Abel and Marth, with Roy now following after him.

"Thank you, you three," Marth said. "Abel, here is the gold you'll need for the supplies. This should be enough to purchase quite a bit."

Abel took the bag of gold that had been handed to him. "We'll be sure to use it wisely," he responded. To this, Marth only nodded.

"Alright. Well, I shall see the three of you later," Marth said and flashed them all a small smile. He turned and walked away, leaving the two cavaliers and the mercenary by themselves.

". . . Well! Alright," Cain spoke up, causing both Roy and Abel to look at him. "Let's make sure to get going and get what we need."

* * *

It had been a couple of hours and the three men were almost finished gathering the supplies Marth had asked them for. Plenty of vulneraries, concoctions and other items had been purchased and were now being carried in two fairly large sacks by Cain. Roy had offered him help, but Cain declined it, saying he would be fine carrying the bags by himself—this, of course, had caused Abel to make a noise somewhere between a scoff and a snicker, which made Cain a little red-faced.

Roy found the two of them to be, for lack of a better word, amusing. Both of them took their jobs as Marth's knights very seriously, just like Jagen, but they also acted more light-hearted around each other, especially off of the battlefield. In a way, they acted very much like brothers, with Cain trying to one-up Abel every now and then and Abel finding him silly for trying to make a point in some sort of imaginary competition. It was a refreshing change from the usual marching, fighting, sleeping, and repeat pattern that the army had fallen into in just the short time that Roy had been with them.

"This should be our last stop," Abel spoke up as they reached an old-looking wooden building. "This place should have some rarer items, such as Speedwings, Spirit Dusts, and maybe even a Dracoshield or two…"

Cain quirked his brow. "_Really?_ Well it would be our lucky day if we were to find even one of any of those, especially in a random old shop… let's go check it out then."

Roy held the door open for the two cavaliers as they went inside. He entered after them, quietly shut the door behind him, and looked around the shop.

The shop itself was the size of just one large room, and it was full from floor to ceiling with strange items all along the shelves and gondola units. Patterned rugs covered the aged wooden floors, and the lighting inside was yellowed from the pyramidal bits of old stained glass hanging from the ceiling. Each pyramid contained a small flame that cast just enough light for customers browsing to see what was on the shelves around them. The place felt old and slightly cluttered with only enough room for one person to walk down the 'aisles' at a time, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Many of the strange artifacts and items grabbed Roy's attention and he ended up wandering slowly around the room, looking at everything he possibly could. Abel had went straight to the elderly woman behind the counter to ask about a few things and Cain had followed him there, which left Roy to himself. He saw many strange things, from old scrolls to Pegasus bones, which gave his interest a little bit of a surprise, though nothing in particular stood out to him too much. Just as he went to round a corner, however, something on one of the old gondolas suddenly caught his eye.

A sphere made of smooth, reflective stone, swirled with colours in an almost prismatic effect, was resting on the second to top shelf. It sat atop a silky cloth not much bigger than a handkerchief, and it was absolutely brilliant, even amongst the dingy discoloured shades of everything else around it.

Roy's breath had caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat as he stared at the object, almost entranced by it. He stared for a few moments before the elderly woman spoke up.

"Do you know what that is?" she asked him like she already knew what it was. Roy blinked a few times and looked to her, their eyes locking, which caused her to tense up in sudden realization.

"Wh… What is someone like you doing in my shop?! Get out of here! I don't want your kind here!" she shouted and hobbled out a few steps from behind the counter to the surprise of Cain and Abel. "I said get out!"

Roy blinked a few times. "Uh… what?"

Abel attempted to interject. "Ma'am, he's not doing anything wrong—"

"I said get _out!_" she insisted and jabbed her cane towards Roy, causing him to step back.

Roy, fairly flustered, muttered a few apologies before he stepped out of the store, but not before he looked to his two comrades, who were both just as confused as he was by her sudden outburst. He closed the door behind him as he left and awkwardly rubbed his left arm.

"That… was odd…" he mumbled.

A few minutes passed before Cain and Abel both came back out of the store. The sound of the door opening caused Roy to look back to it, and he nodded a little bit at them.

"Did you get what you needed?" He asked politely.

"Yes, we did," Abel responded with a frown. "Are you alright?"

"Oh. Yes, I'm fine," Roy said with a nod. Abel slowly nodded back in response. "Did she say anything to you?"

Cain shook his head. "Nothing. We asked if there was a problem and she just angrily muttered to herself. It was strange. She still sold us what items we asked for, though."

Roy nodded a little and still seemed slightly troubled by the elderly woman's outburst. Abel smiled and put his hand on Roy's shoulder, which caused the latter to look up at him.

"Let's just go back to the inn now," Abel said.

With that, the three walked away from the old shop. Roy casted a quick glance over his shoulder, half expecting the woman to be staring at him as they walked away. Thankfully she was nowhere to be seen, so Roy turned his head forward again, relieved.

* * *

"This is a fairly… straight-forward plan, Malledus," Marth said hesitantly.

"It is," Malledus agreed, "But we've not much choice. With the rivers and bridges the way they are, this is really the only way to the Northern Fortress."

Marth, Malledus, and Jagen were all seated at a table in the inn, a map sprawled out on top of it with various marks all over it. Marth's left arm was across his chest and his right hand was cupping his chin in thought as he stared down at the large piece of parchment with calculating eyes.

"Keep in mind, too, Prince Marth, that Captain Hardin will also be there. He may join us in our plight, so your army won't be totally alone out there," Malledus said. Marth nodded at this.

"Yes, I figure Hardin would want to join forces. That does make this strategy a little… less reckless," Marth mumbled.

Jagen smiled slightly at Marth's choice of words. "Sire, have you any plan for which of your men will go where?"

"Ah, yes," Marth responded and moved his hand from his chin. He then proceeded to explain who would go where, using Malledus' strategy as his base. His hand pointed at various spots on the map as he threw out ideas. Both Malledus and Jagen seemed to be on board with Marth's plans, at least until he got to the front lines: "… Jagen, Ogma, Abel, Matthis, Roy, and I will be in the front lines, with us splitting into pairs as soon as we pass the first bridge."

At this, Jagen frowned. "Roy, sire? Are you sure he should be in the front with us?"

Marth cast a sidelong glance to Jagen, his head still bowed toward the map. "Is something wrong with that, Jagen?"

There was something about the tone of Marth's voice that caused Jagen to quieten. After a short moment, he shook his head. "No… I suppose not, sire."

Marth straightened his back and turned his head to look directly at Jagen. "I have no reason not to trust him with us in the front. He is strong, even if he may not see it himself," Marth paused before lowering his voice a little. "I am usually one to trust in your opinion, Jagen… but this time, please trust in mine."

Jagen was only slightly surprised by Marth's words, and he hesitantly nodded. The three men went back to planning.

Not but half an hour later, Roy, Cain, and Abel all returned to the inn. Abel led the other two to the door of the room that Marth was planning in and gently knocked on the door. Marth allowed them entry and Abel opened the door and stepped inside, with Roy and Cain following close behind. Marth smiled at them as they entered.

"Welcome back. It seems you found everything we needed?" He said.

Abel nodded. "We did, as well as a few extra things. A Dracoshield, Goddess Icon, and Spirit Dust, to name a few."

Marth seemed surprised. "Wow, a very lucky find… thank you, you three. I'm glad all went well."

Cain nodded and smiled. "Well, everything was fine except for that crazy old woman, right Roy?" he said and looked to Roy, who instantly averted his eyes.

"A… Ah, yeah," Roy mumbled awkwardly. "That was strange…"

Jagen narrowed his eyes quizzically. "Old woman? What was it that happened?" he questioned.

Abel explained the situation with the old shopkeeper to Marth, Malledus, and Jagen. As he told them of her strange outburst, Marth and Malledus seemed to grow more surprised, but Jagen's expression hardened and his gaze shifted to Roy.

"So she just yelled at you?" Marth asked Roy, and the latter nodded. "That's definitely strange… perhaps she just mistook you for someone else."

"Or she just does not like mercenaries," Malledus added, to which Marth nodded. Jagen stayed silent.

"Well… either way, I think she was just a little crazy," Cain said. "She had a whole lot of weird stuff, so I wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case."

Marth smiled a little. "I suppose so. There's no need to worry about it anymore, though. You got what I sent you out for and then some, so for that, I am thankful."

Roy looked to Marth once again before glancing to Jagen. Jagen's stare was enough to cause Roy to look away again, for he knew that Jagen did not trust him.

"We'll be setting out for the Northern Fortress in the morning, so it's best we all get some rest," Marth said. The others agreed and Malledus rolled up the map. Cain set the bag of items with their other supplies in the room and he and Abel left. Malledus followed after them, and Roy allowed Marth to leave before he did.

Jagen followed out after Roy and closed the door behind him. He turned his head to watch Roy walk down the hall and up the stairs.

". . . Sire, even though you told me to trust in him… I am not sure if I can…" he muttered. With a sigh, he turned heel and walked down the hall to his own room to retire for the evening.

Roy had returned to his own room—one that he was sharing with the fairly aloof Nabarl—and had sat down on his bed and removed his boots. Nabarl was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't too much of a surprise to Roy as Nabarl seemed to be more of a night owl. The young mercenary took this time as a chance to open the pouch on his waist and pull something from it: the stone that had fallen from his shirt when he first woke after Marth had found him.

He stared at the stone and slowly turned it over in his palm as he observed it. It was very similar to the stone he had seen in the old woman's shop, but for some reason, his seemed much duller. Roy's brow furrowed as he thought—what kind of stone was it? Marth did not know, and neither did Roy himself. Perhaps he would find the answer eventually.

Upon hearing footsteps approaching the door to the room, Roy tucked the strange stone into his pouch once again. Nabarl entered the room and Roy greeted him quietly—Nabarl giving him nothing but a quiet "hm" in response— before he rested back on his bed. The old bed creaked under Roy and he exhaled slowly when his head hit the pillow, his body thanking him for finally deciding to lay down. They had quite the long travel awaiting them.


	7. Chapter V: The Coyote, Stone, & Emblem

**Hey guys! I hope you've all been well this past couple months! Uni has started up once again for me, so my apologies for missing an update in August. Thankfully though I had the time to get this chapter out this month (even though the month is almost over...;v;").  
mfw the actual chapter title is too long to fit into the chapter title information bar. Sorry about that icky looking title in the chapter dropdown menu.  
**

**ANYWAY sm4sh roy hype amirite, i'm so glad i never gave up on my boi  
also hopefully his amiibo is FE:If compatible like the others (i have been enjoying using them with If, Marth is a serious ultra moe king)**-

**Obligatory SPOILERS EVERYWHERE for Shadow Dragon/Rekka no Ken/Fuuin no Tsurugi always. (This chapter covers chapters 5 and 6 of Shadow Dragon.)  
I don't own any of these characters or Fire Emblem (I'm not cool enough...)  
Thanks once again to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading, and thank you to everyone for your follows and reviews! I really appreciate all of them, thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter V: The Coyote, the Stone, and the Emblem**

After what felt like days of travel, the army finally made it to the outskirts of Aurelis. Even from far away, the enemy military was obvious in their view—clad in red armor with their weapons glinting in the sunlight, speckled across the fields like collections of red ants. The enemy had unfortunately been notified of Marth's presence, for they had readied their ranks for the inevitable battle to come.

However, the enemy wasn't the only force aware of Marth's presence—Hardin, a powerful warrior widely known as the Coyote, had heard of Marth's plight and brought his own army to fight the enemy from the east side of the fields, beyond the rivers.

As Hardin fought in from the east, Malledus had everyone go through with the tactics planned out a few nights before to fight through to the northwest. During their fight inward, Marth and his small group of Jagen, Ogma, Matthis, Abel and Roy were able to escape across a bridge more to the north. There were still enemies in the field beyond the bridge, but the forces were lighter. With Marth's order, the group split into pairs.

Jagen was paired with Roy, much to Jagen's reluctance. The prince had sent Jagen a glance before putting them together that seemed to communicate something along the lines of "please get along." Though Jagen did not like Roy, he would not let his aversion to the mercenary affect his ability to fight. Jagen may have been a suspicious person, but he was not petty.

Roy seemed to understand why Marth had placed Jagen with him, but that did not stop him from being on edge.

"Let's go together now," Jagen said to him. "I see a village off in the distance… perhaps we could head there first."

With a slight nod, Roy started on his way out into the fields. It didn't take them long before they were attacked by a wave of enemy soldiers. For a regular nameless foot soldier, being attacked by a group would most certainly prove to be fatal—but for two skilled soldiers like Jagen and Roy, it was easy to wipe them out.

Jagen kept careful note of Roy and his fighting style as they fought together. He did this for two reasons: he needed to keep an eye on Roy due to his own suspicions, and also, he wanted to observe his sword techniques to try to pinpoint where Roy may have come from.

With swift swipes of his blade, Roy was able to cut through the enemy soldiers with relative ease. The way he handled his sword was much different from any other soldier that Jagen had seen—often times Roy would hold it backwards in his hand, jabbing and slicing through their thick enemy armor with only one blow. His style was refined, but still wild and confrontational enough that it made him harder to read. Part of Jagen wanted to chalk it up to Roy's youth that made him so different, but there was something about Roy that, overall, made Jagen more confused with him.

It didn't take the pair long to make it to the village along the outskirts of the fields. They were greeted by a small group of villagers at the entrance.

"Thank you for coming to help us," an elderly woman said. "Those soldiers in red were terrifying. We couldn't fight back…"

"It is our honor," Jagen spoke. Roy nodded in agreement.

"Were any of you hurt?" Roy asked politely as he looked over the group. They shook their heads and Roy smiled. "That's good to know."

A younger man approached the two of them. "I reckon I haven't seen vigor like yours since that time I saw a manakete in Pyrathi!" he spoke and grinned at Roy. "Man, wasn't _that _a rare sight, huh?"

"Oh? A manakete?" Jagen responded with a quirked brow.

"Yeah, y'know, I had heard of dragonkin before, but I always thought they'd look like parakeets or sumthin'. It was mighty crazy, you know what I'm sayin'?" he looked from Jagen back to Roy. Roy only nodded, not quite sure of what to say. In a way, being compared to a manakete was flattering, but it was also rather awkward.

". . . Say, what is that?" Roy asked and motioned to the glinting object in the villager's shirt.

"Wha? Oh, this?" he said and pulled out the object, which was a red, polished stone orb. "Y'know, I have no idea. I found it in Pyrathi. It kinda gives me the creeps, but it is pretty nice lookin', and it glows. You want it?"

Both Jagen and Roy were interested. "It is a very intriguing stone," Jagen said.

The young man grinned. "Yeah, ain't it? Y'know what, you guys can have it. It might be worth somethin', and I'm thankful for you two helpin' us out, so here."

The villager held out the stone to Jagen, who carefully took it. "Thank you. We'll see if we can put it to good use for our army. Roy, would you mind keeping it with you?"

Jagen's question surprised Roy. "With me? Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, do you have room for it in your pouch?" Jagen asked him.

Roy nodded. "I do…" he said as he moved to touch his pouch, ensuring that he did have enough free space in it.

"Good. Then could you keep it with you for safekeeping?" Jagen asked again, politely.

Roy hesitated before slowly nodding. "Sure… I can do that."

Jagen held out the stone to Roy, who carefully took it in his right hand. He felt something almost like a warm wave wash over him as soon as the smooth sphere touched his palm. A small shudder went down his spine and he pulled it closer to himself to look at it.

'. . . It's almost like the stone at that old woman's shop,' he thought to himself. His eyes narrowed slightly at it before he put it into his pouch.

"Alright," Jagen said. "We need to head to the western bridge, Roy. Prince Marth and the others shall meet us there."

"Right," Roy said. "We shouldn't keep him waiting."

At that, Jagen couldn't help but smile faintly. "Then let's get going."

With a farewell, the duo left the village. As they trudged through the field to the bridge, Roy couldn't help but feel slightly more awake than before, almost like a veil of fog had been lifted off of him. Not but a short while later, the two of them made it to the bridge, where Marth and the other three were already waiting.

"I'm glad to see you two made it here so quickly. Were the villagers safe?" Marth asked as soon as they arrived.

"They were all safe, sire. Thankfully the Medonian soldiers hadn't hurt any of them," Jagen responded.

"Good. Now then, the six of us will head across the bridge to meet with Hardin and his forces first, and the rest of our forces will come shortly after, led by Cain and Caeda. That's when we will storm the castle," Marth explained to them. "Hardin's forces are not very far from the other side of this bridge, so thankfully, we will not have to fight alone for long."

He smiled slightly and the others. "If any of you need to use a vulnerary, now is the time to do it. We'll be crossing over in a moment."

Ogma took the chance to use one of his own vulneraries as Marth went to survey the fields across the bridge. Roy watched Marth as he scanned the western fields. He felt a strange burning sensation in his chest and glanced down before gently resting his hand over his chest and gripping it. He was ready to continue onward and liberate the castle.

Thankfully it didn't take long for the group to head off again. The six of them quickly made a beeline to the battlefield where Hardin and his forces were fighting the enemy.

Upon their arrival, Hardin made note of Marth. "Ah!" he called out. "You've made it here quickly!"

Marth nodded curtly. "Of course! Let us make quick work of these enemies," he said.

With the power of Marth's forces and Hardin's forces at their disposal, the allies quickly routed their foes. The others in Marth's army—led by Caeda and Cain—made it across the bridge about halfway through the fight, and with them there, it was like the battle had ended in the blink of an eye. The enemies had been totally outmatched—not even Merach, the man appointed by Princess Minerva herself to hold the grounds outside of the castle, stood much of a chance against them.

Once the area was deemed safe enough, Marth sheathed his rapier and made his way over to Hardin. "Lord Hardin, it's a pleasure to meet you. As you know, I am Marth of Altea… I've come to help however I can."

"And I am grateful for that, young price. For someone your age, you have achieved much. I feel as though I've gained a thousand allies in one," Hardin responded.

"I've heard quite a bit about you as well, Coyote. It is my honor to fight alongside someone so courageous," Marth spoke with a smile.

"The same to you," Hardin said. "I've left Princess Nyna in a safe place for the time being. Since we will be fighting together, it seems one of us will have to command… I was hoping you would be willing to lead the charge."

Marth blinked slowly. "Me? But you are far more qualified, Sir—"

"Nonsense," Hardin said. "It does not matter which of us is listed in the history books as the leader here… take command so that we may rout this Medonian scum and be done with it."

Marth hesitated before slowly nodding. "If you are certain…."

"I most definitely am. I fancy myself a good judge of character… if you acted out of selfishness, I would not have the faith in you that I have now. You have earned my trust," Hardin spoke with a smile.

"Thank you, lord Hardin… I am honored. I feel as though we will make good friends," Marth said.

"Of course. May our friendship be a long one," Hardin said with a nod.

Marth and Hardin then came back to the others.

"Prince Marth shall be leading the charge of the castle," Hardin said, mostly to his own soldiers. "Fight with all of your might, soldiers of Aurelis! We are to rescue the king, liberate the castle, and finally free this place from Medon's influence!"

Hardin's forces let out an incredible battle cry. Roy couldn't help but smile slightly from it—it was uplifting to him, and though he did not know anything about this land, he also wanted to fight his hardest to help free it from its oppressors. A fire ignited in his chest and he was more than ready to take on whatever lied ahead of them within Aurelis Castle's walls.

* * *

There was shouting, cursing, and clashing of blades as the rebel forces challenged the Medonian intruders that had managed to take control of the castle. Roy had made it a point to fight with as much might as he could muster—so much so that he was practically plowing through enemies left and right. With a forceful slash of his sword, he cut down another enemy soldier—his sword was cutting through their metal armor almost like a hot knife through butter, though Roy didn't take much note of it at the time.

One of the enemy archers couldn't help but let out a shriek as soon as he saw Roy run at him. They were too close for the archer to be able to draw an arrow fast enough, and Roy ran him through with a swift lunge of his blade. The archer let out a pained shriek as the heat of the sword singed his skin and he looked to Roy with angry eyes.

However, upon locking eyes, the archer's once defiant anger seemed to crumple back into fear. "Y…ou… You're one of those…!" he coughed up blood as Roy pulled out his blade. "Y… ou… monster… you're on the wrong… side…"

The archer fell to his knees before dropping forward, slain, and Roy stared at him for a moment with his eyes narrowed. The archer's words made no sense to him, but something about what he had said made Roy slightly agitated.

"Monster?" he quietly questioned to himself.

"Roy!" came Jagen's voice from not too far behind him. Roy quickly looked back to see the old paladin surrounded by about four different enemies, one of which being another archer he couldn't reach. The archer had an arrow drawn, poised to shoot Jagen as he was busy keeping the other soldiers at bay.

"Jagen!" Roy yelled as the archer let his arrow fly. With a sudden burst of energy, he dashed to the arrow and swung his sword upward, cleanly slicing it in two before it reached Jagen. He turned quickly, his sword ready, and cut the Medonian archer down. Jagen was able to take care of the other enemies that had been surrounding him as well.

"Thank you for your help," Jagen said to Roy.

Roy quickly nodded in response. "You're welcome."

Jagen stared at Roy for a moment, as if thinking about something, before he shook his head. "We're almost to the throne. I am sure Prince Marth and Sir Hardin will make quick work of whoever is leading these soldiers. In the meantime, clear out these halls so they can make it to the throne room with ease."

"Right, I will," Roy responded. He turned on his heel to run down the hall, where more enemies awaited.

Jagen's eyes narrowed as he watched Roy run off in the other direction. His gaze shifted to the arrow—now in two pieces on the floor not far from his horse.

"How did he manage to do that…?" Jagen mumbled.

There was a lot of bloodshed as the rebel army routed the castle of Medonian enemies. Just as every other war up to this point, the opposing general—in this instance, Emereus of Medon- was too angry and haughty for his own good. Marth and Hardin took Emereus down together, their combined might and skill proving to be too much for Emereus to handle.

"You damned rebels…" Emereus groaned out, wounds littering his body. "You might take us down here… but Doluna is still… powerful enough to wipe you all off of the face of this earth!"

Hardin frowned deeply. "I suppose we will see then when we face Doluna itself, but we do not plan on losing."

"Foolish... idiots," Emereus said and rose his silver lance.

Marth gripped his rapier. "Perhaps, but we will not back down from opposing Doluna's tyranny," he spoke. "Your control of Aurelis ends here!"

Hardin charged Emereus with his horse and rose his steel sword over his head. Emereus spun his spear and stabbed at Hardin, but Hardin pulled his horse to the side quickly enough to dodge the blow. He swung his sword and sliced into Emereus' arm, which caused Emereus to stumble back a step. Marth dashed in with his rapier just as Emereus started to regain his footing and lunged the slender blade right through his enemy's gut.

That, of course, was the final blow necessary to fell the Medonion general, and as Marth withdrew his blade, Emereus fell back onto the ground, no longer able to keep himself standing.

"Rrgh… Why…?" he grunted out before letting out his final breath.

Marth pursed his lips before slowly sheathing his rapier. "That's it," he said. "Aurelis has been liberated."

* * *

After checking on the king and ensuring his safety as well as reclaiming some of the riches that had been stolen from the castle, Hardin led Princess Nyna back to the castle from her hiding spot in the nearby fortress. Marth, as well as everyone else, bowed with respect as she came into the throne room.

"Prince Marth… finally, we meet," she said and smiled. "I am Nyna of House Akaneia. It is my land's duty to protect the world from strife—a duty I have striven to fulfill. Even so…. Doluna has laid waste to my kingdom, and now the world is falling to ruin. I can't help but find myself feeling powerless as I watch this happen around us."

"Princess Nyna, it is not your fault," Marth said to her, a small frown on his face.

"Maybe, but I am the one responsible for this kingdom, and now look at it," she responded sadly. "Prince Marth… please, pick up the banner where I have let it fall. Fight against Doluna to liberate us all from the darkness that has begun to swallow the land whole."

"You have my word, Princess Nyna. I vow to slay the darkness and destroy Medeus, just like Anri did before me," he said. "It may be difficult… but we will not fail."

This made the princess smile once more. "That makes me glad to hear," she said. Then, she turned to one of her subordinates and he passed her what looked like a shield.

"Let me give you this," she said as she turned to Marth once more, holding the shield out to him. "This crest… it is called the Fire Emblem."

Marth, surprised, hesitantly held out his hands to receive it. "The Fire Emblem?"

"Yes… Akaneia will only bestow it upon the one that we believe has the power to save the world," she said.

From the other end of the hall, Roy, amongst all the others, watched the passing of the Emblem to Marth. Something in his chest tightened into an almost painful knot, and his hands tensed.

However, he nor anyone else in the room seemed to notice the red stone in Roy's blade glowing softly.

Princess Nyna rose her gaze to Marth's, her expression one of resolve.

"Never give up, Marth. Fight, until the day you restore light to our world."


	8. Chapter VI: The Broken Gate

**u thought i forgot about elibe, didn't u  
i would never forget elibe, elibe is my favourite FE continent/saga yooooo  
Eliwood is sad. Nils is sad. stuff is sad, man.  
Two chapters in less than two days is enough to make up for missing last month, right? ;v; haha...**

**I don't own FE or any of its characters, Intelligent Systems owns those things (even though i wish i did sobs)**  
**Thanks randomadorablepikachu for proofreading even when you had uni homework. :'D And thank you as well to the followers and review I got on the last chapter so far (it hasn't even been 24 hours wow!)**

* * *

**Chapter VI: The Broken Gate**

Back in Elibe, Nils had been in an outraged panic. Eliwood had done his best to keep him calm, but it didn't seem like there was much that he could do outside of let Nils calm down on his own.

It had been weeks since the events at Dread Isle and Roy's disappearance. Nils had escaped the island and made his way to Pherae as quickly as he possibly could. His sudden appearance had surprised Eliwood at first, but seeing as though he had shown up heavily wounded, Eliwood's initial surprise had quickly turned into concern. After Nils had been tended to, he recounted the events with Roy at the Dragon's Gate.

* * *

_". . . And then I shoved him into the gate, to get him away from those men," Nils said._

_ "So… you're telling me that Roy went through the gate? And now you've no idea where he's gone?!" Eliwood questioned, worry evident in his voice._

_ "That's right," Nils said and pursed his lips. "But it was either that or let both of us be killed right there on the spot, with the Dragon's Gate wide open for those dastards to do whatever they pleased with it. Seeing them as they were, you would probably have another Scouring on your hands if that had happened."_

_ Eliwood quietly nodded. ". . . Is… is there anything that could be done to bring my son back? Do you know if he's alive?"_

_ "… I don't know," Nils said. "The Dragon's Gate connects many realms together. I don't know which one he was sent to."_

_ This caused Eliwood's heart to sink. "So he could be lost forever?"_

_ "… Yeah, it's possible," Nils responded hesitantly. ". . . The Dragon's Gate here is broken. The only way I would be able to search for him would be if we could restore the Gate."_

_ "So if we fix the Gate," Eliwood started, his tone becoming serious, "then you could go through and bring my son back."_

_ Nils slowly nodded. ". . . Theoretically, yes, I could."_

_ There was a stiff silence as Nils debated something in his mind. Eliwood noticed Nils' hesitation._

_ ". . . Nils, is there something you haven't told me?" Eliwood asked him._

_ Nils looked up to him. ". . . Eliwood… I don't know if it's possible."_

_ Eliwood blinked. "You… don't know?"_

_ Nils shook his head. "The Gate was destroyed… I have no idea if it would ever be repairable, or how to do it. And I definitely know I'm not strong enough to do it on my own."_

_ There was silence once more as Eliwood processed Nils' words._

_ ". . . So… Roy could potentially be lost forever," Eliwood finally said._

_ ". . . Yeah."_

* * *

A frustrated sigh left Nils' throat as he looked up at the sky. He was out in the garden behind the castle, trying to clear his mind. His arms and legs and chest were still bandaged up from his injuries, so he wasn't really able to do anything at all besides wander around House Pherae.

He watched the clouds slowly drift by as he was once again absorbed in his thoughts. This had been happening a lot during his month of recovery, especially since there was nothing he could really do outside of sit around and heal.

His eyelids slid shut as he let out another sigh, this one quieter than the last.

* * *

_ "Take this and go!" Nils shouted as he shoved a stone to Roy's chest. "Get out of here and stay somewhere safe!"_

_ With as much force as he could muster, he shoved his brainwashed nephew into the portal, and the mages fired off all of their tomes at once. Nils was barely able to get out of the way before the magic all struck the ground where he once stood, but he didn't get out of the situation fully unscathed—much of the Elfire had managed to burn his sleeve and singe his skin. Nils let out a pained hiss as he gripped at his arm._

_ "You brat," the lead mage hissed. "You think you're so smart… we'll kill you here and now!"_

_ "I won't let you do that," Nils growled, his voice laced with pure anger. "You've managed to make this dragon really angry!"_

_ His body glowed brightly and the ground shook as his body transformed, taking the form of a towering Ice Dragon. He let out a vicious roar and bared his fangs._

_ "Damn," grunted one of the mages. "He is no joke…"_

_ "Keep him distracted," muttered the other mage off to the leader's side._

_ "We will. You know what to do," the leader said, and at that, the other mage nodded._

_ "Of course."_

_ Nils let out another roar, his mind in a partial haze of absolute rage. He turned to swing his tail against one of the pillars, knocking through the middle of it and causing it to crumble. The mage that had been standing atop it jumped off as it started to fall apart, only to be intercepted midair by one of Nils' massive claws. The mage was sent flying into a far wall, where his body slammed into the aged brick and fell into the shadowy depths below the ruins. _

_ The quick demise of one of his allies caused the leader to growl. "Damn you, you foolish beast!"_

_ He rose his tome and held out his free hand as a glyph appeared beneath his feet. "No matter what you try, we will get our way!" He shouted and cast his magic._

_ Nils roared as he was hit with a powerful blast of Aircalibur that managed to leave deep gashes in his neck. He returned the hit with magic of his own—a blast of freezing breath billowed forth from his maw as he tried to strike the mage. The pillar was encased in ice from the attack, but the mage had dodged the attack somehow._

_ Nils quickly looked around to see where the mage had gone but was hit with another strong bout of magic—this time, Bolting—on his side. He stepped to the side and shifted his weight, causing the floor and ceiling to once again rumble. Debris started crumbling away from the ceiling._

_ "You're being a pain," spoke another mage that suddenly appeared in front of Nils' face, his hand outstretched. Nils was barely able to manage a glance at him before his eyes were struck with Elfire._

_ Nils let out a pained, primal sound as he stepped back one step and shook his head with his eyes clenched tight. His eyes stayed clenched as he bore his fangs and let out a huge breath of ice._

_ He wasn't able to see for a number of minutes, but he could still hear very well. He could hear the mages as they flitted about him in the air and struck him with spells. He was able to land the occasional hit, which one was usually good enough to take whatever mage he struck out of commission, but it was getting increasingly more difficult and more painful to move._

_ He opened his eyes slightly to try to see, and though his vision was blurry, he could see enough to ascertain his surroundings and spot his enemies. Only two of the mages were left, with the leader being one of them._

_ "Amazing, can you still see?" he taunted. "Aren't dragons amazing?"_

_ His tone was almost like he was mocking Nils for being a manakete, but Nils saw something through his damaged eyes that shocked him._

_ The mages were flying. But how could they do that?_

_ Nils could not stay surprised for long, however, as he was once again attacked with Bolting. This time, though, Nils was more prepared—he lowered his head just before the magic struck him and lunged out to bite at one of his attackers. There was an almost bloodcurdling scream as Nils sunk his fangs into flesh before throwing the mage down onto the ground._

_ All that was left at that point was the leader._

_ "You know, I'm actually pretty angry," growled the remaining mage. "Very angry. I'm practically bubbling up with rage on the inside… I could probably do anything right now."_

_ Nils glanced to him and a cool mist started to leak from his open maw as he had begun to prepare his attack._

_ "You're nothing without your Gate or your kind," the mage hissed. "So how about instead of destroying you, I destroy this!"_

_ With a swift motion of the arm, the mage cast a huge gust of Aircalibur at the Dragon's Gate. Nils barely had any time to react as the powerful magic collided with the portal and stone gate surrounding it._

_ The Gate had been totally destroyed—portal and all._

_ The sight caused Nils to snap. He let out a terrifying roar that shook the entire place before swinging his claw at the remaining mage. The sudden attack had caught the mage off guard and he was hit dead-on. Nils brought his claw plummeting down into the ground beneath them and slammed the mage into the stones, pinning him there._

_ Fueled with rage, his gaze bore down into the mage below, who was barely able to draw breath._

_ "H…ah… F…ool… even though we may be dead… now what… will you do…" he breathed out. "Our plan… was already set… in motion…"_

_ Nils growled lowly and opened his maw. With one final breath of ice, the last of the mages was slain._

* * *

Nils couldn't help but cringe at the memory. "Why couldn't I do better…?" he whispered to himself.

He had been beating himself up over the past few weeks for his inability to keep the Gate safe. And even though he was able to kill off five of the mages, he had realized later that one of them was still unaccounted for. He quietly cursed himself.

"Sister… I'm so sorry," he spoke softly as he clenched his eyes. "Please forgive me for failing you so badly…"

Nils could hear two sets of footsteps approach him as he thought. The distressed manakete looked in the direction of the sound to see Eliwood and a very small winged girl approaching him.

Nils blinked slowly. Winged girl? A manakete?

"Nils," said Eliwood. "How are you feeling this afternoon?"

"Oh," Nils quietly spoke before clearing his throat. "I'm doing fine, thank you."

Eliwood nodded. "That's good to hear. Nils, this is Fa, a friend of Roy's."

The little girl waved enthusiastically at Nils and fluttered her wings. "Hello!" she exclaimed.

Nils stared for a moment before smiling a little. "Hi," he said.

"I remember what you said about the Gate," Eliwood started before hesitating. He lowered his voice a little. "That you weren't sure if you were strong enough to restore it on your own."

This caused Nils to cringe a little. ". . . Yeah?"

"As I'm sure you may have already guessed… Fa is a manakete as well," Eliwood said and smiled to Fa, who let out a small happy sound. "She is from the village of Arcadia… and is a Divine Dragon."

Nils quickly looked to Fa, who grinned.

"Fa wants to help find Roy!" she exclaimed. "Fa will help Nils and Eliwood with the gate so Nils can find Roy!"

Though her enthusiastic nature was charming, Nils still couldn't help but feel slightly cold. ". . . Eliwood..."

"Nils," Eliwood spoke up, his tone serious. "This isn't the time for self-loathing… we have a problem on our hands. And honestly, fixing a gate and finding my son in another realm sounds better to me than him being dead."

Eliwood's words caused Nils to tense up.

"You protected my son the best that you could. He's not dead—I refuse to believe that my son would die just by going through the Gate. He's just somewhere else right now, and if we rebuild a gate of our own, perhaps then you could pass through and bring him back to our world, where he belongs," he said. "I have faith in you, Nils… Ninian would, too."

The sound of his sister's name caused Nils to tear up slightly. ". . . Eliwood, I let her down," he said shakily.

"Nonsense... you didn't let her down. You didn't let anyone down, Nils," Eliwood responded. "Roy is alive, out there, somewhere in another realm. He's alive… that alone is enough. You did nothing wrong, and I am sure Ninian appreciates all you did to help Roy make it out of there."

Nils shook his head a little and clenched his eyes tight. He grit his teeth as he tried to hold back his tears. Fa frowned sadly before going over to Nils. She tugged on his sleeve, which caused him to glance to her. Then she smiled cheerfully at him.

"Don't be sad," she said. "We can fix it all together. Roy will come home! Everyone will be happy, then."

There was something about Fa's innocent resolve that calmed Nils enough for him to stop himself from breaking down into tears. He closed his eyes and let in a slow breath before holding it. He nodded once and breathed out.

". . . Alright," he finally spoke.

Eliwood smiled and Fa let out a cheerful noise once again. She took Nils' hand and fluttered her wings. "We can do it! Roy will come home soon! No giving up!"

Nils gripped Fa's hand slightly with his own and he nodded slowly. "Yeah… no giving up."


	9. Chapter VII: The Fire Manakete

**y'all thought i was gone didn't u  
nope, i just died from classes and finals and video game developing for the past few months.  
****ANYWAY hey! It's been a few months (sorry ;-; ) and I've been dying to get back to writing this. Now that I have some time off from classes and other responsibilities are out of the way, I can! (woo!)  
****Also, coincidentally enough, I got like 7 reviews on this in the past... 3? Days? 3 or 4 days, yeah, after like two months of silence. I don't know if this got shared somewhere or what, but if it did... o: For some reason none of the newest reviews are showing up for me, however. It says there are 27 reviews on the story, but only 20 of them show up. So to those of you who did submit reviews in the past few days and you don't see them, please know I did accept them all, and the site is probably just being weird. I hope the reviews didn't get eaten... ;-;**

**You know, Fire Emblem has a lot of fighting in it. It's almost like it's a simulation strategy RPG or something. Oh wait.**

**As always, spoilers ahead for FE6/7/1/11 and Fire Emblem doesn't belong to me it belongs to Intelligent Systems/Nintendo, whatever. Read at your own risk. ****Thanks to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading! :D**

* * *

**Chapter VII: The Fire Manakete**

The clanging of swords, trampling of feet and neighing of horses echoed loudly throughout the valleys as the Akaneian League fought valiantly against Princess Minerva's forces and the Whitewings. Even though stories said Minerva was well-versed in battle, she had decided to keep her distance throughout the fight—only attacking to defend herself when necessary.

Roy had opted to fight alongside Caeda as they made their way south. "Roy!" Caeda shouted as she lanced an approaching foe. "You'll have to go on without me after we clear out this fortress, I'll stay behind to keep it from falling back into enemy hands!"

"Are you certain, Caeda?" Roy asked as he shoved the flat side of his blade against an opposing dismounted cavalier.

"Yes, make sure you accompany Marth! He's going to need all the help he can get taking down Minerva! She's terrifyingly powerful!" Caeda looked back to him. "I'm sure I can hold up this place with Bord or Barst at my side."

Roy hesitated before nodding. "You've got it," he said and cut down the cavalier he had pushed away. "I'll go get one of them!"

Roy ran out of the fortress and quickly looked back and forth, scanning the battlefield for either Bord or Barst. It took him a few seconds to spot the green of Bord's clothes, but once he did, he started off toward the fighter. "Bord!" he called out.

Bord's axe swung around and sunk into an enemy as he turned to look at Roy. "Oi! What's it?" he responded.

"Caeda needs your help maintaining the fortress! Would you be able to make your way over?!" Roy asked and sliced down a fighter who had tried to barge in front of him.

"You got it!" Bord answered with a nod. "I'll be over 'ere in a bit!"

"Thanks Bord!" Roy said back before rushing out into the fray. "Now where is Marth…?"

As if right on cue, Roy caught sight of the blue haired prince not too far away, skillfully cutting an enemy down. He was surrounded by enemy soldiers—probably because they could tell who he was—and though he was killing them off as they came at him, Roy could tell he was beginning to tire. Quickly he ran to Marth, swinging his sword and fatally wounding enemies as he approached him.

"Marth! Are you alright?!" Roy asked as he came in close and turned his back to Marth, gripping his sword in both hands.

"Oh, Roy, yes," Marth responded between pants. "There's quite a few enemies aren't there?"

Roy couldn't help but smirk a little at Marth's response. "Just a few," he said and blocked an axe with the flat of his blade. "I… figured you might need a helping hand!" He swiftly swiped his blade to the side to knock the axe-wielding fighter off balance before killing him with a single blow.

"That was thoughtful of you," Marth said as he jabbed another enemy paladin.

"Thank Caeda," Roy grunted and stabbed one of the few remaining soldiers. "She gave me the chance to get over here."

There was no response from Marth as he concentrated on what few enemies were left. It didn't take long before the two of them cleared the area together. Marth took the opportunity to catch his breath. The moment of calm was short-lived, however, as another small wave of soldiers came at them, this time with Minerva in tow.

Roy noticed the axe in her hands. "Is that…"

"Minerva, yes," Marth finished with a nod. ". . . I'm going to fight these foot soldiers—do you think you can take her on your own for at least a moment?" Marth asked and glanced at Roy.

Roy quickly looked to Marth at his side. "By myself? Isn't she supposed to be one of the strongest warriors around?"

Marth hesitated before nodding. ". . . Yes, she is."

Roy stared at Marth for a moment, his brow furrowed. ". . . Alright, I'll do it."

Marth seemed surprised. "You will? Roy…"

Roy shook his head. "Don't mention it. I'm a mercenary after all, and if you're telling me this is something I need to do… then I'll do it."

After a short moment of silence, Marth nodded. "Alright. Thank you Roy. I'll clear you a path, and don't get hit by her axe," he said.

The soldiers came upon them and Marth and Roy instantly got to work fighting them off. Marth was able to clear out a small area for Roy to break through the lines.

"Roy!" Marth shouted.

Roy took his cue and ran through the new split in the enemy formation and made a beeline right toward where Minerva was. Perched atop her wyvern mount and equipped with the legendary axe Hauteclere, it was easy to understand why she was considered one of the most fearsome warriors one could face.

She had been watching Roy approach, and, once he was close enough, ordered her wyvern to swoop down and attack. The enormous beast let out a roar and flew down at Roy, its maw gaping open to reveal rows of sharp fangs. Roy stopped in his tracks and slid forward before jumping back and out of the way of the incoming bite.

"You're quick on your feet for a swordsman," Minerva said as her wyvern raised its head. "Who are you?"

"My name is Roy," Roy said, keeping a firm hold on the hilt of his blade. "You are, without a doubt, princess and commander Minerva."

She nodded curtly. "I am. I'm surprised you were able to pry yourself away from your prince to fight me in the first place—you seemed so fixated on what he was doing."

Roy blinked and his cheeks burned slightly. "What?"

"It's nothing, don't mind me. Now," she raised her axe to her side and her wyvern reared a little in the air. "Prepare yourself, lest you'll be slaughtered where you stand!"

Roy steeled himself and both parties quickly leapt at each other, axe clashing with blade. The friction of the metal caused sparks to fly and Roy used the force from Minerva's Hauteclere to jump back out of her range. He switched his grip, ran at her once again, and tried for an underhanded swipe with his blade. She tugged her wyvern out of the way and swung her axe around to catch him from behind, but Roy easily ducked underneath it.

This went on for a few more rounds—neither of them had managed to hit each other, but something about Roy had made Minerva wary. With each hit she missed, he seemed to come back faster and stronger than the time before.

Roy, upon ducking under another axe swing and sliding out of the way of a wyvern bite, switched his grip and swung his sword upward. His growing speed had obviously caught Minerva by surprise and he finally landed a powerful blow across her arm and chest, splitting her armor.

Minerva let out a small grunt of pain and her wyvern flew back a few feet. Roy followed after her and jumped up before bringing his sword down on her. She was barely able to block the blow with her axe, and even when she did, her arm buckled a little under the force of his weapon on hers. With the strength she had left, she pushed Roy off of her, allotting her enough time to fly away farther.

"What is this," she mumbled to herself and stared down at Roy now that she was high enough in the air he couldn't reach her. "He's stronger and faster than any swordsman I've faced before…"

A sharp burst of pain radiating from the gash in her chest pulled her from her thoughts and she cringed. "Rrgh… even so… I can't keep up the fight with these wounds… I must withdraw."

Roy, upon hearing her last words, took a small step back. Minerva glanced to him once more before turning her wyvern and flying off in the opposite direction, withdrawing from the battle.

Palla, who had been fighting Marth, noticed Minerva escaping. "Where is she going…?! Is she withdrawing…?"

Marth, with labored breath, nodded. "It seems she has lost to our side!" he responded.

She quickly backed away from Marth and her Pegasus flapped its wings a few times. "If my commander is leaving, I've no reason to stay! The Whitewings have no loyalties to our general, only our commander. Consider yourself lucky today, prince."

Palla called out for Est and Catria and they all came together before they fled the battlefield, following after Minerva.

Roy ran back to Marth. "Marth! Are you alright?" he asked as soon as he approached.

"I'm fine. Are you injured? I can't believe you got Minerva to retreat on your own," Marth said quickly.

"I'm fine too, don't worry. We've still got the general to defeat, though, and he's not going to go down easy," Roy responded.

Marth nodded in agreement and they both headed out once again—this time, in the direction of Harmein's hold.

* * *

Harmein slammed the side of his fist into a wall, causing some of the dust on the ceiling to fall to the floor. "She _what?!_" he shouted.

"Sh-she withdrew from the battle, sir!" came the scared voice of one of Harmein's knights. "M-Minerva and her Whitewings have left."

Harmein let out an angry growl and grabbed his silver sword. "Get the reinforcements! We're going to go out and kill those Akaneian League bastards if it's the last thing we do, with or without that selfish princess!"

The soldier saluted before quickly running out of the room. Harmein let out another growl. "Curse Minerva and her pride," he hissed. "No matter… if I am to die here, then I won't be dying alone! I'll take those Akaneian whelps with me!"

He turned and stormed out of the room, his blood boiling from his anger.

* * *

Once Harmein had entered the battlefield, it was almost like hell had broken loose—not only the general himself, but also a wall of reinforcements swarmed upon Marth and his allies. Weapons clashed and armor was split as blows were exchanged—the enemy soldiers were not as strong as those on Marth's side, but they were greater in number, which made it harder to clear through them all.

Harmein let out a yell as he charged at Marth, "You! You'll be killed here and now!"

Marth had been preoccupied with an opposing swordmaster and was unable to do anything about Harmein's sudden approach. Jagen quickly rode in and blocked the silver sword's blow with his own silver lance.

"Jagen!" came Marth's surprised voice.

"Prince Marth, keep your guard up! I will make sure the general doesn't get to you!" Jagen responded.

Marth nodded slightly. "Thank you, Jagen," he said.

Jagen looked to Harmein, who was clearly both angry and amused by Jagen's intervention. "You're just postponing the inevitable!" he growled. "I'll sap the life from your old bones and then crush your prince in the palm of my hand. I don't need Minerva or her Whitewings to wipe the floor with what's left of you!"

Harmein raised his sword and swung his sword down at Jagen, who blocked it again with his lance. Jagen skillfully spun his lance to force Harmein back before lunging it at him. Harmein was able to dodge a fatal blow, but the lance still pierced through his arm, staining the beautiful silver with dark red. The enemy general let out a groan of pain and Jagen yanked the lance back out of him.

With an eye shut tight, Harmein looked up to Jagen. "Heheh… you are pretty skilled, aren't you, even for an old man."

Jagen said nothing and Harmein let out a yell before charging at Jagen once again. Even with an injured arm, Harmein still slashed his sword swiftly, and Jagen's horse was barely fast enough to raise out of the way. Jagen had switched to the defensive and continued to block and dodge the flurry of attacks thrown at him.

All was going well for Jagen for quite some time until Harmein finally faked him out—he pretended to come in from the right, and Jagen dodged accordingly. A smirk crossed Harmein's face before he quickly turned his blade and cut upward, cutting into Jagen's armor much like how Roy had cut into Minerva's. Jagen grunted and his horse staggered back.

Marth had seen the attack land and his eyes widened. "Jagen!" he shouted.

Roy heard Marth's cry and looked over to see what had happened. He saw Jagen injured with his hand gripping his chest and Harmein poised to strike again with his sword and his body went cold. Marth was unable to run to Jagen's aide, as he was still being attacked from all sides.

"Say your last words, old man," Harmein spoke gruffly. "I will take your life here and now, and then your prince is next!"

"No… no he's not," whispered Roy as his teeth clenched.

Jagen glanced to Harmein. "Even if I die, the rest of us will kill you before you even get within a foot of Prince Marth," he said rather weakly.

Harmein simply laughed. "Your resolve is refreshing! But it is misplaced!" His silver blade glinted in the sunlight as he rose it higher. "Now hurry up and die so that your prince can be next!"

He brought his sword down to land the finishing blow on Jagen, but instead of making contact with paladin, he made contact with another blade. A loud echoing clang emitted from the two weapons and Harmein hissed from the sound.

"What!" he shouted.

Roy had his blade drawn and had blocked the attack. "Jagen… get out of here, go to Wrys or Lena and get your wounds healed!"

Jagen seemed surprised at Roy's sudden appearance and stared at the back of the young mercenary's head. "Roy… Alright, I will retreat," he responded with a nod before turning his horse to escape.

Roy glanced back to Jagen's retreating form before he looked forward to Harmein again, his expression one of pure abhorrence. The general couldn't help but tense at the look.

"Gh… tch, who even are you!" he shouted and swiped against Roy's blade to force him back.

Roy shook his head. "My name is Roy, I'm a mercenary working with the prince," he said and slowly straightened his back. "And I'm done with all of this fighting, so I'm going to have to end you here and now."

Roy's eyes glinted and he blinked once, which made Harmein freeze. "You… you're…" he shook his head. "Tch! No matter! I will slay you next; your youth has gotten to your head."

Roy narrowed his eyes and ran at Harmein, sending a flurry of strikes at the older general with his sword. Clearly taken off guard and still unable to fight properly due to the injury on his arm, Harmein was barely able to block his attacks.

With a small growl, Roy used a particularly powerful slash to knock the silver sword from Harmein's hands. Once Harmein had been disarmed, Roy thrust his sword right through his breastplate, ending the duel once and for all.

* * *

After the fall of their general, the rest of the army either retreated or was defeated with relative ease. Jagen had been healed by Lena and was no longer on death's doorstep, and Marth had fought the soldiers that had him surrounded without suffering any major injuries. Caeda and the others were also fine, with Cain being the only other person to sustain any injuries on the level of Jagen's, though he had been healed successfully by Wrys. The now-healed Jagen, along with Caeda and Abel, had left to check on surrounding villages and had been gone for some time now.

Marth was speaking with Roy. "Roy, thank you for intervening back there," he said. "If you hadn't… well, Jagen…"

Roy shook his head. "It's nothing, Marth. I know how important he is to you; I wouldn't let him die."

Marth quietened for a moment before smiling gently. "You're right, he is. Still, thank you."

Roy couldn't help but smile slightly at Marth's insistence before the sound of footsteps approaching drew his attention from the prince. Both of them looked over to see Malledus coming toward them.

"Sire, a moment?" Malledus said.

"Mm? Oh, yes, Malledus? What is it?" Marth responded and turned to him.

"Well… you know of manaketes, yes?" he asked.

"Manaketes? You mean the dragonkin?"

Roy looked between them and felt a little awkward. "Manaketes?"

"Ah," Malledus smiled. "Yes, manaketes. I'm sure you've heard of them, dragons with the ability to turn into human forms by use of dragonstones."

Roy nodded slightly, as did Marth.

"What about them, Malledus?" Marth inquired.

"As you may know, the manaketes inhabited our continent long before the dawn of humanity. Ordinarily their draconic forms stayed suppressed; their power sealed within special stones—stones that we now call dragonstones."

Marth nodded and Malledus continued, "And so, rather than terrorizing humankind, they chose to live peaceful lives far away from humans, and we coexisted for quite a time. However… a century ago, Medeus, the Shadow Dragon, appeared and everything changed. He took root in the Doluna region and built upon it a vast empire, and from there, he invaded the human realm and subjugated humankind, oppressing them all for years."

Roy seemed surprised, as he did not know the full story of the plight of humans versus dragons in Akaneia. He remained silent.

"Things were going nowhere but downhill for the humans… but it was then, in that darkest hour, that a young man named Anri appeared and rose against Medeus. With the blade of light—Falchion—he slew Medeus, freeing the human realm. From there, he founded Altea… and the rest, I believe you should know, Prince Marth," Malledus said.

Marth simply nodded and furrowed his brow. "I do know my own kingdom's history, Malledus. And I know what I must do—with Medeus revived and Doluna restored to its former might, I will follow in Anri's footsteps to bring light back into our world."

Malledus smiled and nodded. "That is good to hear. You are Anri's last male descendant, and the only one with the ability to wield the legendary Falchion. You must find it and put an end to the Shadow Dragon once and for all."

"I vow to avenge my father and finish what he started—there is no turning back," Marth stated.

There was nothing Roy could say. Learning the history of Marth's kingdom made it obvious as to why there was such a divide between humans and dragons, even in the Akaneian League itself, which was formed of members that could easily be considered accepting people.

He was unable to dwell upon it for long, however, as the sound of Jagen's horse snapped him from his thoughts. "Sire," came Jagen's voice.

"Ah, Jagen, you've returned! And… you've brought someone, it seems?" Marth asked, tilting his head. Roy looked over to Jagen and the newcomer.

An elderly man with greyed skin, clad in red robes, stood beside Jagen. His appearance sent a shiver down Roy's spine and he was unable to break eye contact with the man.

"Sire, this is Bantu," Jagen started. "We found him in a village not far from here."

"Bantu?" Marth repeated before nodding. "I see. Is there business you had with us, Bantu?"

Bantu looked to Marth and hummed quietly, his voice gruff. "Yes… you are Prince Marth, the leader of the Akaneian League… you are trying to slay Medeus. I figured you would be a good person to ask—have you come across a young girl by the name of Tiki whilst on your travels?"

Marth shook his head. "I have not. Who is she?"

"Tiki is the last of the Naga, the divine-dragon clan. She is your only hope to actually make it through Doluna's Manakete forces that serve under Medeus," Bantu explained. "She must be found, and soon."

Marth nodded slightly. "I see… a divine dragon," he thought aloud before looking to Bantu again. "So does that make you…?"

"A dragon, yes. A fire dragon, to be exact—but it is in name alone," he said. "My firestone was lost somewhere in Pyrathi, and without that, I cannot fight," Bantu explained.

"A firestone?" Jagen questioned. "Yours was lost in Pyrathi?"

"Yes," he said. "Quite some time ago, I'm afraid."

Roy had a sudden realization. "Wait," he said, which drew Bantu's attention to him. Roy opened his pouch and dug through it for a moment before pulling out the bright red firestone Jagen had entrusted him with. "This… is this yours?"

Bantu was clearly taken by surprise. "Why… it is, yes," he spoke slowly and approached Roy.

Roy nodded and held it out to him as soon as he was close enough. "We were given this by a villager a while back."

Bantu glanced up from the firestone to Roy and stared at him for a moment, as if analyzing him. Roy stared back and could feel a small lump form in his throat—even though Bantu posed him no threat, there was something about his eyes that made him intimidating.

". . . I see," was the old manakete's response. He carefully took the stone from Roy's hands. "And it seems I am not the only one that is accepted by this stone, here," he mumbled under his breath.

His words caused Roy to tense in confusion. Bantu turned from Roy and looked to Marth. "I would like to travel with you, in hopes of finding Tiki. Will you let this old manakete fight by your side?"

Though Marth was obviously surprised by the question, it didn't take him long to respond. "Absolutely. Manakete or no, I can tell you mean us no harm. And perhaps it will be easier to find Tiki if we search together."

Bantu nodded slowly. "Yes, here's hoping that is the case."


	10. Chapter VIII: History

**PREPARE YOURSELF, DOUBLE UPDATE HUAAAH. Chapters 7 and 8 all at once! Bam!  
Once again, multiple chapter update because I missed a few months of updating. And I missed writing this a lot.  
Having a document full of chapter outlines sitting there for months while you work on other things is such a pain. It kept tempting me the whole way through finals. ;-; Sobs.**

**FF. Not Final Fantasy, Fluff and Feels. Ye.**

**FE6/7/1/11 spoilers ahead, blah blah, Fire Emblem is not owned by me, I just write sappy fics about it.**  
**Thanks randomadorablepikachu for proofreading! *loves forever***

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**Chapter VIII: History**

As soon as all Marth's soldiers were ready, they had left the previous battlefield and trekked to Port Warren. It was still peaceful there, and the group took this rare opportunity to rest and take in the sights—something that many of them had been longing for quite a while.

Much like Nabarl, Roy took this chance to go off on his own. He had been walking around the town, but not to sightsee—his mind was preoccupied with the conversation that took place a few days prior with Malledus and Marth.

The history of Akaneia was something he was not very well acquainted with. Whether this was something he had just never known before or if it was because of the amnesia, he was not sure. However, it was something that he could research on his own now that they had a moment to breathe. Perhaps it would be a good way to learn more about the manaketes, or maybe even jog his memory, he couldn't help but think as he walked down the road.

". . . It's worth a shot," he mused quietly.

It took not but a few minutes for him to happen upon a small library that, even though the building was modestly sized, was filled to the brim with books from old to new. Roy could not help but be impressed as he looked around.

It took him a while to find what he was looking for—a detailed history book that recounted the events of the entire known history of Akaneia. Once he found it, however, he made a beeline to one of the small studies near the back of the old building. He pulled out one of the two chairs at a table by the window and sat down, quickly flipping the book open to the very beginning.

Time went by and Roy didn't seem to care—he did not look up from the book for hours as he read and learned. The information about dragons was fascinating to him, as was the history, but what he was reading began to trouble him.

Marth, who had left their place of stay to traverse the town as well, also came into the library. He saw Roy and was surprised—to think that a mercenary would care enough to visit a library and spend time with a book. A small smile graced his expression as he quietly approached Roy, who was still very much absorbed in the material he was reading.

"Roy," he spoke gently.

No response. Marth couldn't help but chuckle, a little amused. He gently placed his fingertips on the table by Roy's book. "Roy," he repeated.

This time, Roy quickly looked up. "Oh, Marth," he said as he slowly closed his book in reflex. "You… what are you doing here?"

Marth carefully stopped Roy from closing the book and shook his head. "There's no need to hide your book, I was just stopping by to see what they had to read and I saw you here… I must say, I'm a little surprised…" he said quietly, still smiling gently.

"Surprised…? Oh," Roy glanced back down to the book and was quiet a moment. ". . . I suppose it could be surprising… but I've always enjoyed reading."

"Have you?" Marth asked before he slowly moved to sit across from Roy in the other chair. ". . . Do you mind if I join you?"

Roy shook his head. "I don't mind," he said.

Marth carefully sat down in the chair across from Roy at the small table. "Thank you. What are you reading?"

"Ah, I…" Roy hesitated and he averted his gaze from Marth's back down to the book. ". . . I was reading about the history of Akaneia," he said, deciding to omit his interest in dragons.

If Marth hadn't been curious before, he definitely was now. "The history of Akaneia? Why is that?"

"Ah, well, I don't remember anything of my past, so I… I figured reading this, it might help me. Maybe I would remember some of these things and I could start to…" Roy trailed off and he bit his bottom lip slightly.

There was a moment of silence as Marth watched Roy. ". . . I see, then maybe I could help you," he finally said.

Roy's gaze returned to Marth's once again. "Help me?" he asked.

"Yes, maybe I could answer some of your questions… or tell you things that history book may not have in it," Marth explained. "How does that sound?"

Marth's generous offer had taken Roy by surprise and he couldn't help but stare at the prince for a moment. ". . . Are… are you sure?"

A small chuckle came from Marth. "Yes, I'm sure," he reassured. "I'll be more than happy to help you, Roy."

The selflessness of the offer caused Roy to blush a faint, dusted pink. His lips pursed and he glanced down to the book once more, unable to look Marth in the face. "Alright. Thank you, Marth."

Marth simply nodded and without a word, got up from his chair. He picked up the chair and brought it over to Roy's side so he could sit beside him. Roy scooted his own chair closer to the wall to make room for Marth on his side. Once Marth had seated himself again, he looked to Roy. Roy kept his gaze firmly cast downward to the book, which made Marth smile a little once again.

"Alright… let's get started then," he said quietly.

Though Roy had already spent a few hours in the library prior to Marth's arrival, the two of them ended up staying there for a few hours more as they read the book together. Although the information in the book was almost all things that Marth had known for quite some time now, he didn't mind looking it all over again to help Roy. The mercenary had a number of questions for him as they went through the timeline of events and Marth was happy to answer all that he could.

As they read, they got to a section detailing the manakete clans and their differences from one another, as well as their magic and lore. Roy's interest had piqued and he began to ask Marth more questions.

"Yes, that is how the dragonstones work," Marth said in response to one of Roy's inquiries.

"So… there are different kinds of dragonstones for different kinds of dragons," Roy said quietly. "And… they make dragons more powerful, even if they aren't using the stone actively?"

Marth nodded a little. "That is correct… even if they don't transform into a dragon, when holding a dragonstone, manaketes have more stamina and speed than a normal human. Perhaps it is because of the magic within the stone that reacts with their bodies; however, I am not sure."

Roy went quiet and slowly nodded. He turned his gaze from Marth back down to the book once more and he stared at it. Marth glanced to him. It was clear that Roy wasn't reading at the moment, as his eyes weren't flitting back and forth. Something seemed to be on his mind.

". . . Roy, is something troubling you?" Marth asked politely.

Roy merely shook his head. "No… nothing important," he said. "I'm just… I'm not remembering anything."

This caused Marth to frown a little. "Roy… I'm sorry," he said. "Maybe this just isn't the right way to go about it."

Roy nodded a little in agreement before he carefully closed the book. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Marth," he said, sounding genuinely disappointed in himself.

Marth shook his head. "There is nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm glad we got to do this… it showed me more of the side of you that you only show when off the battlefield. It doesn't happen very often, so I'm grateful."

Roy stared at Marth a moment, searching his eyes as if to see if he was telling the truth. ". . . Perhaps…" he mumbled before glancing down to the book once more. "Looking at it that way, it feels like less of a waste, now."

Marth smiled. "Think positively, Roy. Even if it doesn't happen now, I'm certain you will remember your past eventually."

With that, Marth gracefully stood from his chair. "Now… let's put the book away and go back to the others, shall we? I'm sure you're famished—I know I am."

Roy smiled a little and let out a small breath through his nose. "Yeah, I am."

He rose from his chair as well and Marth pushed his back to its proper side. Roy pushed in his own chair and went to one of the bookshelves off to the right of the table, carefully sliding the old history book back into its proper place. Marth walked over to him and they left the library together. The sun had started to dip behind the mountains in the distance and the sky was tinted various shades of orange and pink.

"We were in there for a while," Marth said. Roy nodded and Marth smiled at him. "Well, at least the day was both relaxing and productive."

They began their walk back to the inn on the other side of town. Though the daylight had almost run out, people were still busily walking about the streets of Warren. The two passed by a number of small merchant stands as they went through the port town.

One merchant stall in particular had been very busy—a group of five or six people had huddled around the front of it, and it was a little difficult to pass it by. Marth squeezed through the small crowd to get to the other side, but as Roy started to go through, a tall man in a dark cloak bumped back into him, causing Roy to stumble slightly.

"A-ah, sorry," Roy apologized as he looked over to the man. He couldn't see the man's face very clearly due to the shadow cast on it from his hood, but he could tell that the man was not one to fuss with. Roy shifted and hurried to Marth's side once again before continuing their walk, and he glanced over his shoulder slightly.

The man in the black cloak was no longer there. Roy furrowed his brow and heard the beginnings of an unpleasant ringing in his ears. He quickly looked forward and shook his head a little to rid himself of the sound. Marth was feeling a little uncomfortable as well and he quickened his pace—because of this, it didn't take long before they had returned to the inn.

Unfortunately for the two of them, dinner had yet to finish cooking.

With a small sigh, Roy turned to Marth. "I'm going to head up to my room for a while… thank you again for helping me today," he said.

Marth nodded with a smile. "Any time, Roy."

Roy turned and made his way up the stairs. His shoulders sagged slightly as he reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hall. Even though he was grateful for the time he spent with Marth today and all the questions he had answered, he could not help but feel like he let both Marth and himself down.

He gripped the doorknob to his room with a gloved hand, and, like he had done times before, found himself lost in the woodgrain before him. He wasn't thinking of much in particular—just floods of words and sounds buzzed through his mind as he tried to find some sliver of consistency in his life.

Consistency in a world of turmoil—a world of turmoil that he still could not bring himself to remember, no less.

Roy closed his eyes and his expression dropped to one more solemn. After a few more moments of standing, he opened the door and quietly entered his room. He was sharing with Merric and Draug this time, but thankfully neither of them were there. He made his way over to his own bed and slowly sat on it.

There was an odd, almost lonely feeling in Roy's chest as he stared at the empty beds of his comrades, and once again his mind drifted off into a negative place.

Who was he? Why was he here? What had he been doing before this? And now, with his ever-growing doubts, he couldn't help but ask: _what_ was he?

In times like these, he found solace in the one thing he knew had a tie to his past outside of the clothes on his back and the weapon at his side— and however small it may be, it was still something. He carefully flipped open his pouch and fingered around for the misshapen stone that he had been carrying with him ever since Marth's company had found him in the fields.

Roy slowly pulled it out and held it in front of him. He stared down at that prismatic yet dull stone with tired eyes, silently sending it his questions and pleas like he had done countless times before. This had turned into an almost nightly ritual for him—he would find a place to be alone if he could, and he would hold this stone, hoping that maybe he could find an answer somewhere in its greyed-out, swirled pattern.

Sometimes he would get lucky and get a headache coupled with muddled voices and sounds that he couldn't understand. Most times, however, he was answered with nothing but silence.

This seemed to be one of the latter times.

A small sigh escaped his lips and he quietly put the stone away. It wasn't going to happen for him today—he had resigned himself to it.

"I just need to sleep," Roy mumbled to himself as he laid back on his bed.

He stared up at the ceiling for a long time, his mind blank. Never had he felt so empty before, not even when he first awoke all the way back in Galder. The mix of knowing he had forgotten everything plus being totally unable to do anything about it, even after trying all day, had done nothing but sink his mood down to a new low.

Not quite an hour passed and Marth went upstairs to find Roy.

He knocked gently on the wood of the door. "Roy?" he called quietly.

Upon hearing no response, he opened the door only a crack so he could peer inside. On the farthest bed lay Roy, curled on his side with his back facing the prince. Marth, a little worried, decided to quietly enter the room and walk over to Roy's bedside. He peered over Roy to see his face.

He was sleeping.

Marth slowly let out the breath that he had unknowingly been holding.

"Sleeping," he mumbled to himself before allowing himself a small smile. "I shouldn't be surprised…"

Marth moved to unfold the blanket that was setting on the corner of the bed before gently draping it over Roy's sleeping form.

"At least use your blanket…" he whispered before going silent. "… You've had a long day… rest up. I'll make sure to have a meal left over for you."

Marth straightened his posture before turning and walking back toward the door, where he paused. He looked back over his shoulder one last time before he left the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

This day would be the last peaceful one they would have in a long while. It would not be much longer until Grust's soldiers fell upon the Akaenian League, and battle would commence once more.


	11. Chapter IX: Past Demons

**I know what you're probably thinking. "ANOTHER CHAPTER? what."  
but i PROMISE i'll stop spamming with updates. I'm just super happy to write this fic again now that i have the time and i want to take FULL ADVANTAGE OF THIS FREE TIME THAT I HAVE  
and I still feel bad for not updating for three months before, so hey, this chapter plus the past two make up for those months!  
**

**Anyway. FE6/7/1/11 spoilers ahead, blehbleh, no I don't own Fire Emblem, no I don't make money on this, whatever.  
randomadorablepikachu is best girl for proofreading ;v; and thank you to everyone for your reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
**

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**Chapter IX: Past Demons**

Port Warren had gone from peaceful to hectic as soon as Grust's soldiers appeared. The Akaneian League had fought them off the best they could before fleeing towards Pyrathi, seeking refuge.

As they walked toward the island, Roy managed to keep his gaze downcast, opting to stare at the grass a few feet in front of him rather than the scenery around him. A lot was on his mind at that moment—most of it relating to the question and answer session he had with Marth in the library at Port Warren. The idea that, even without actively using a dragonstone, a manakete could still benefit from having it on their person worried him.

He had noticed that, back when he was fighting against Minerva and Harmein's forces, his energy levels were much higher than in previous battles—he was able to body countless enemies without even breaking a sweat. However, as soon as he had passed off the firestone to Bantu, exhaustion took over him and his body was sore.

The idea that he may be a manakete was absolutely ludicrous to Roy. He had made sure to look himself over before the attack on Port Warren took place, and he was sure he looked nothing like Bantu, who was a true manakete. They looked different, spoke differently, and overall, Roy acted more like Marth or Jagen or Abel than he did Bantu.

There was _no way_ he was a dragon.

Roy's brow furrowed and he shook his head a little as he stared harder at the ground. Jagen noticed Roy's movement and, curious about Roy's current state, sped up his horse slightly to catch up with him.

"Roy," Jagen said quietly once he was close enough.

Roy quickly looked over. "Oh, Jagen? What is it?"

"Are you alright?" Jagen asked. "You seem troubled."

"Oh. No, it's nothing. I'm fine," Roy responded. "Thank you for asking, though."

Jagen was silent for a moment before nodding, hesitantly trusting Roy's word.

Marth, who was walking not far from the two of them, had overheard the conversation. It was overtly obvious to him that something was bothering Roy and had been since the day at the library, but he did not want to pry.

Finally, after almost half a day of walking, they had made it to Pyrathi. There were small groups of houses here and there scattered across the isle, but there was plenty of empty space for the group to set up camp for a night, as long as they were allowed.

Unfortunately for them, however, those inhabiting the small island kingdom were not friendly in the slightest. Upon seeing the group of travelers approaching their shores, many a pirate appeared to deny them entry. Their weapons were already drawn and they were ready to fight.

"It seems like resting here or leaving peacefully is not an option," muttered Marth. "This is… unfortunate, at best."

"Sire," Jagen said as he came to his side. "We are surrounded on three sides by pirates, and returning from where we came is not an option."

"Yes, it seems we'll just have to ready our arms and fight," Marth said. The young prince turned to the rest of his comrades. "Everyone, though I know you are tired, you must prepare yourselves! We've a battle on our hands!"

As the others ran ahead to begin the invasion of Pyrathi's shores, Bantu came to Roy. "Roy," he said. "I've something to tell you before you head out to battle."

Roy, who was about to run after the others, stopped. "What is it?"

"Do not push yourself like you did back when you were fighting Harmein's troops," he advised. "Keep yourself reigned in this time."

It took Roy a couple seconds to process Bantu's request. ". . . Alright, I will do my best," he said.

Bantu seemed pleased with his response. "Good."

"Roy!" Marth called out from up ahead. "Come with us!"

Roy looked Marth's way to see Marth waiting with Cain, Abel, Merric and Ogma. He glanced to Bantu one more time before running over to meet up with them.

"I've sent Jagen, Hardin, and Caeda off with their own groups to fight off the incoming pirates," Marth explained. "That will give us the opportunity to go straight to the shrine to the east."

"If you didn't know," started Cain, "The guy in charge here is an intimidating one that goes by the name of Mannu. Legend has it he's actually a dragon."

Roy blinked. "A… dragon? In charge of a band of pirates?"

Cain nodded. "Sounds odd, I know. But that's how the story goes."

"In any case," Marth interjected, "I'm going to need some of my strongest allies with me if we want to stand any chance against him."

Roy understood this and nodded. "Right," he said. "I'll go with you."

Bantu approached them. "Prince Marth, where would you like me to go?" he asked.

"If you could assist Caeda's group along the southern shore, I would appreciate it," Marth responded. "I would feel better knowing a powerful dragon was assisting the princess of Talys."

"Then that is where I shall go," Bantu said before leaving to meet with Caeda.

Without further hesitation, Marth's group crossed the bridge leading to the island of the wyrm-king. Almost instantly they saw a small village off to the east with a band of thieves and ruffians making their way towards it—a sight that always ended in tragedy if they were not stopped quickly enough. Cain and Abel decided to ride ahead to intercept them and made it just in time, halting their advance right in front of the town's gates.

A skirmish broke out from there; the fight started and ended so quickly that it really could not be considered more than a mild disturbance compared to what Marth's company was used to. Small-time thieves and thugs stood no chance against the skill of a cavalier or lord.

Marth decided to check in on the villagers anyway, just to be safe—and his kindhearted concern ended up paying off more than he could have expected, by means of Jeorge. The talented Akaneian sniper had seen how quickly Marth and his group had taken care of the thieves, and, thoroughly impressed, decided to lend a hand.

"You were chased off by Doluna?" Abel asked him as they made their way southwest, towards the shrine.

"Yes, I tried to defend the palace, but it was for naught—Doluna was too powerful," Jeorge explained. "Thankfully, their power lies in their muscles rather than their minds. I was able to escape and made my way here, hoping that at some point, I could meet with Princess Nyna once more."

"I will be sure you are able to see her once the matter at hand is settled," Marth assured him.

"That is all I could ever ask for, Prince Marth. Thank you," Jeorge said.

Roy had only been paying half attention to his comrades' conversation—he was too busy looking around him. The landscape had slowly been turning from open fields to ruins as they approached what was more than likely Mannu's keep.

"Say, Jeorge—you've been here a while, have you heard whether or not the stories involving Mannu are true? Is he really a dragon?" Merric asked. This question grabbed Roy's attention and he turned his head to look to Jeorge.

"Unfortunately, yes," Jeorge responded. "The stories are definitely true. To take him on without being prepared would prove… well, fatal."

Cain frowned. "Sounds great."

Jeorge shook his head. "I've been told there's a powerful weapon, one called a Wyrmslayer, enshrined in the palace off to the east. If anything, that would be our best bet to take him down."

Marth did not need to hear any more. "To the east? Then we need to go there, and right away—the path has already been cleared by Hardin, so it shouldn't take us long."

* * *

Marth had been right when he said it would not take them long to get to the eastern palace. He had been able to find it quickly, go in, take the legendary Wyrmslayer, and escape.

Because their forces had been split into multiple groups, most enemies had been eradicated, or had at least been held back. This provided Marth's company with a fairly easy travel back across the small isle toward the main shrine.

The closer they got to the crumbling ancient structure, the more nervous Roy became. His stomach twisted and his heart began to pound in his chest. He knew this was not normal for him, which worried him more—why was he having such a strong reaction to his surroundings right now? Were the others feeling it too?

"Foolish humans!" boomed a voice not far ahead. All eyes turned to the source—atop the shrine stairs stood a menacing cloaked figure with greyed skin and a beard. His eyes were black and gold, and his expression was fierce. "You unclean, puny creatures; you are defiling this sacred ground with your presence! I will dye the lands crimson with your blood as I kill you all, one by one!"

The ground began to shake as the orb in Mannu's hand began to glow. Marth realized what was about to happen and instantly stepped back.

"Get back! He's about to transform!" he shouted.

Roy and the others didn't need to be told twice; they bolted back to the shrine ground entrance as fast as their feet could take them.

A terrifying and deep roar came from behind them as Mannu transformed.

The others turned to face him, but Roy found himself unable. He was frozen—the roar had not only permeated the air, but it also shook him to the core. Slowly swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he was able to muster the strength to turn and look back to Mannu.

What he saw before him was, without a doubt, one of the most horrifying things he had ever seen. Huge claws, sharp scales, and a form whose intimidating appearance was unmatched.

It was a fire dragon.

His eyes clenched as a sudden flood of emotions washed over him, causing him to quiver. His heart and mind raced as fuzzed memories flashed through his mind, overtaking him.

The roar of a fire dragon echoed in his ears and the talons of War Dragons ripped through his chest. Pain shot through his body and he thought he was dying—but there was no such luck. Upon opening his eyes he was met with a realm of blackness, though he could tell he was not alone. Red lines began to pulse around him and there was the faintest sound of something breathing out with a growl.

Almost instantly there was a dark, scaled face—one that was even darker than the abyss that surrounded him—directly in front of him, its mismatched teal and red eyes glaring into his. Roy was unable to breathe as the creature lifted its head and opened its maw. Then it struck, swallowing him whole.

The muddled sound of yelling and clanging weapons slowly became more apparent as Roy started to come to.

"… oy! Roy!" came Abel's voice.

"Damnit, Roy! Come on, get up!" Cain shouted before grunting and blocking an axe.

Roy was barely able to open his eyes—his eyelids were heavy and his spirit was weak. His head thumped, his ears rung, and he was covered in a cold sweat. Slowly, his surroundings became more apparent to him.

He cringed at the sound of one of the pirates made as they met their demise by Cain's lance.

"Are you up?!" Cain shouted. "We need you right now!"

Mannu laughed darkly. "Even _you're _weak," he taunted.

"Pay attention!" Marth shouted as he attacked Mannu with the Wyrmslayer. He was able to cut deeply into Mannu's scales and skin, which made the dragon roar once again.

"Brat!" hissed Mannu as he slammed his claw into Marth, knocking him far to the side.

Marth let out a pained sound as he tumbled across the ground. Mannu bore his fangs and, though he was angry, couldn't help but be amused. "You'll pay for what you've just done," he said.

The air became hot as Mannu inhaled, readying his flame breath. The warm charge in the air slowly brought Roy out of his haze and he mustered the strength to look ahead of him.

Marth was on the ground of the shrine, the Wyrmslayer and Fire Emblem both knocked from his hands, and Mannu was standing before him, preparing what would be a fatal attack.

Roy's breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened. The sword on his hip burned hot beside him and the gem in the centre shined brightly, as if begging him to draw it. With a sudden burst of willpower, he drew his blade and rose to his feet, faltering slightly.

"Die, you foul animal!" roared Mannu as he rose his head. Flames billowed in his mouth and he lowered his head to let loose the stream of fire that had been building up in his throat.

Marth clenched his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable, and he could hear Cain, Abel, and Merric cry out for him.

"Rrraaagh!" Roy yelled as he dashed toward Mannu, his blade graced by fire. He leapt into the air and held the sword above his head with both hands before plummeting it down into Mannu's skull.

Time seemed to stand still as the burning blade sunk through flesh and bone. Mannu's body stilled, his eyes wide open in shock. There was a crackling sound as his body began to change—starting from Roy's blade, crystals began to grow and cover Mannu's corpse.

Marth slowly opened his eyes and looked above him. The sight stunned him; Mannu's crystallized head was looming just over him, and Roy was crouched atop it, his sword pierced in all the way to the hilt.

Abel had gotten off his horse to run over to Marth. "Sire!" he yelled and came to his side. "Come on, get up!"

Abel quickly helped pull Marth up from the ground and brought him back to where he and Cain were. Marth was unable to look away from the now-petrified fire dragon.

Roy slowly withdrew his blade from its head and stood. Moments after, Mannu's body began to crumble, forcing Roy to jump off.

The crystals fell apart, leaving nothing of the fire dragon behind but a pile of clear blue dust and shards.

Slowly Roy turned to the others and he made eye contact with Marth, which caught his attention. A slew of questions started to run through the prince's head as he tried to process what had just happened to Mannu, but the sound of Caeda's shouting and hooves clomping reminded Marth that there were other things he needed to attend to first.

He pulled away from Abel and looked back just as the rest of his comrades were beginning to make their way to the shrine. It seemed as though the enemies had all been routed and the area had been secured, but not without cost—there were a number of injured scattered throughout the growing crowd, and they needed to be taken care of as quickly as possible.

* * *

After the injured had been tended to, Roy slipped away from the others unnoticed. He scoured the broken down shrine and, upon finding a dark space that he could be alone in, tucked himself away in that small hollow. He squatted down and placed his hands in his hair before gripping at the carmine mess with trembling fingertips.

By that time, Marth had just finished checking in on everyone, but no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to find Roy amongst the others. He furrowed his brow.

"Where could he have…?" Marth mumbled to himself before glancing around once more.

He decided to hike around the area and search through the ruins himself in an attempt to locate the roving mercenary. It only took a matter of minutes before he stumbled across that small cavity in which Roy had decided to stow himself away. By that point, Roy had managed to stand up once again, but his eyes were closed and his head was bowed.

"Roy," Marth said—to no response.

This made Marth come to Roy and take him by the shoulders. He shook Roy slightly. "Roy! Answer me, why did you falter back there? We all could have been—"

His words stopped in his throat as soon as Roy made eye contact with him, however. His eyes were dark, glassy—they were saturated with fear, like the eyes of a man who had borne witness to nothing but horror in his life.

". . . Roy…" Marth mumbled, his grip on the other's shoulders loosening. "What happened to you?"

The question caused Roy to seize up as he forced himself to hold back a sob. His eyes clenched again and he lowered his head, his fists shaking and clenching tighter.

"I… I remembered… something," he barely spoke. "I… it… it was frightening…"

Roy's voice faltering like it had made Marth's frustration ebb away into concern. ". . . Can you tell me what it was? What did you remember?" he asked as he removed his hands from Roy's shoulders.

There was a pained silence as Roy struggled to decide whether or not he could say anything. Slowly and shakily he inhaled through his nose and held his breath before exhaling.

"I… what I remembered," he started, "what I remembered… there were shadows everywhere. Roars and screams, claws… ripping through my chest. Dragons everywhere…"

Marth tensed in surprise. "Dragons…?"

Roy nodded. ". . . There was fire and everything around me was shaking… I thought I was going to die," he said. "But…but then… it all went black. And it was warm… like there was something around me. Then there was a dragon's face, a-and it…"

His teeth grit and he clenched his eyes, as if remembering it hurt him. Marth quickly shook his head.

"It's okay, if you can't say anymore, don't," Marth reassured. "I've heard enough, I think, to understand."

Roy looked up to Marth a little, and Marth smiled at him. "Maybe now, your memories will start to come back… and maybe that will all start to make sense," his smile loosened a little and he shifted his weight. "… And maybe that's why you're so interested in the history of Akaneia, because it is full of dragons, and dragons were part of your past."

The idea surprised Roy. "Part of my past…?"

"Yes," Marth said. "You are a mercenary… perhaps you've fought dragons before this, and those are the memories that came back first when you saw Mannu."

Even though his memories were troubling, Roy couldn't help but calm slightly at Marth's theory.

"You think that's what it was…?" Roy asked.

Marth nodded. "I do… and right now, it doesn't make sense because you've got no context behind it."

Roy was quiet for a moment before calming. ". . . That… sounds plausible," he mumbled.

A weight was lifted as Roy took another deep breath and exhaled. "Thank you, Marth."

Marth shook his head. "There's no need to thank me."

Roy glanced to Marth again before looking behind him at the island shores in the distance. ". . . I'm sorry I froze up back there. Because of that, you ended up getting hurt, and the others were put in danger trying to keep me shielded…"

"Don't worry about it," Marth said quickly. "It's what we're here for. Besides, you killed Mannu— I doubt anyone will be upset with you after that."

"Right…" Roy muttered.

"Come on, let's go back to the others," Marth said. "We're going to camp here for the night and then leave early in the morning."

Roy nodded and had no qualms with that plan—his body could use a rest, as did everyone else's, he was sure. They both returned to their comrades, with Roy still a little unsteady on his feet, and helped erect their camp.

As the sun set, its light reflected off of the pile of crystal shards that were left over from Mannu's demise. Roy sat by the entrance of the shrine's courtyard, looking out at it, thinking back on what had happened just hours before.

Quietly, Bantu came to him. "Roy," he said, drawing Roy's attention away from the crystals to him. "Are you well?"

"Oh, Bantu," Roy nodded. "Yes, I'm fine… what is it?"

Bantu shifted as he put his hand in the front of his robe, searching for something. "I've got something that I think you should have," he said and pulled out what he had been searching for.

A round stone, freckled with red, brown and gold, glinted in his wrinkled hand.

Roy, instantly recognizing what it was, shot Bantu a confused expression. "A firestone?" he asked. "Where did you…"

"Yes, a firestone—retrieved from Mannu's crystallized remains," Bantu said. "You took good care of mine when you had it. I would like you to do the same with this."

This confused Roy further. "But wouldn't that help you more, since you are a dragon?"

A small smile crossed Bantu's lips. "Perhaps, but I already have a firestone of my own, and you have earned my trust. So this one is for you, boy—keep it safe."


	12. Chapter X: Schemes Before War

**Hi! The semester is finally over. Well, it has been for a while, but I've been in the hospital and other stuff so... I've been busy.**

**Anywho. This chapter was difficult to plan out at first- originally it was about twice as long, but I realized it would be better split into two chapters because of... reasons. So look forward to another chapter here soonish now that I'm back! :)**

**I got a bunch of guest reviews in the past few months and I don't think I was able to accept/moderate them in time, but it looks like they showed up anyway, so I'm glad they weren't lost. Thank you guys for reading this far, I'm glad you are enjoying the story.**  
**As per usual, FE6/7/1/11 spoilers ahead and all that good stuff. Fire Emblem ain't mine, I just have the fic. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter X: Schemes Before War**

Dawn had come, and as the sun rose over the waters, the ever-weary soldiers rose from their beds. Roy had already been up for a short time now, as sleep had escaped him for much of the night—in truth, he had been almost afraid to sleep, for fear that the dragons may have visited him in his dreams.

He groggily stared out into what little of the morning sun he could see, his eyelids heavy and his body exhausted. As he looked out, he could have sworn a dot had begun to grow in the sky in front of the sun, but he shrugged it off as his imagination taking advantage of his tiredness.

It wasn't until a few minutes later, however, that he realized the dot was not just his imagination—it had grown in size considerably, and it looked like it had wings. Roy's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus.

What looked to be a Pegasus knight was approaching their encampment. Roy blinked slowly a few times and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking out to reassure himself of what he saw—and, once again, he saw a Pegasus knight.

"What would a lone Pegasus knight be doing coming here," he mumbled to himself. He pushed himself off of the ground with his hand and dusted himself off, deciding it would be best to inform Marth of their incoming visitor.

Marth had barely woken up when Roy came to him, and, upon hearing what he had seen, nearly dropped what he had been holding of the tent's supports. Cain offered to finish tearing down the tent for Marth—an offer the prince gratefully accepted—and Marth followed Roy out to where he had seen the Pegasus knight.

By that time, the visitor was already at the island shore not far from them, and Marth seemed to recognize them.

"Is that… one of the Whitewings?" he questioned out loud, which made Roy look over to him. Marth glanced to Roy before heading out to meet her a little further out, and Roy hesitantly followed.

"Prince Marth," the blue-haired girl said as she landed her Pegasus in the grass. "Finally, I've caught up with you. I am Catria, one of the Whitewings of Medon."

"Yes, I remember you from before," Marth said. "What are you doing here?"

Catria looked down before looking back up at Marth. "I have come with a request from Princess Minerva."

This caught both Marth and Roy by surprise.

"Minerva?" Marth questioned.

"Yes," Catria responded with a nod. "She is planning to lead us against Doluna in rebellion; however, were are unable to do anything so long as Doluna holds Princess Maria, my mistress' younger sister, captive in Castle Deil."

Roy's eyes narrowed. "So that's why she attacked us alongside Harmein?"

"Unfortunately, yes. She has been under Doluna's thumb for far too long now, and her conscious is unable to handle much more," Catria explained. "We need to rescue Princess Maria, but we are unable to do it alone. Will you help us? The Whitewings will assist you in your plight if you are able to free the princess."

Roy looked to Marth, who had a stern expression as he contemplated Catria's question. Catria, though she did not want to show it outwardly, was desperately hopeful.

"… Alright, we will help," Marth said. "It's decided."

Catria bowed her head. "Thank you, prince Marth. With this news, I can leave knowing that soon my mistress and we Whitewings will no longer be under Doluna's control."

"Are you not staying here to help us?" Roy asked.

"I wish I could," Catria said, her expression troubled. "But my sisters and I were split up, for the enemy feared that we would work to conspire against them if we were all together. If I were seen on the battlefield alongside you now, surely my sisters would suffer for it."

Marth nodded in understanding. "That's fine, I understand. This is already a risky situation you put yourself in by coming to us," he said, to which Catria nodded.

"It is," she said. "Nevertheless, I am thankful I found you. I must go now, however, or the others will notice my absence..."

Her Pegasus flapped its wings as it lifted from the ground. "Thank you again, prince Marth, and I am certain we'll see each other again soon—but next time, on the same side of the battlefield."

With that, Catria departed. Marth and Roy watched her leave before Marth turned.

"I will go inform the others," he said before looking to Roy again. "… Roy, you look like you haven't slept a wink. Rest for a while; we've still got some time before we depart for the castle."

Roy shifted. "It was that obvious, was it?"

Marth smiled slightly. "The bags under your eyes say it all."

* * *

Roy had been thankful for what little rest he got before they left for Castle Deil—the travel was a long one, at least two days in length. They had already left Pyrathi and had started their trek across the peninsula.

Every single bone in Roy's body ached dully, though he would not complain out loud, nor would he let it show through his body language. Once in a while, he would find himself looking ahead to Marth, who was a short distance in front of him.

Even though Marth was young, he was a capable leader. A capable, thoughtful, and compassionate leader—and though he was still learning the art of war, his power on the battlefield was impressive.

Roy couldn't help but wonder if he would be like that himself one day. Or had he already been? For some reason, there was this lingering, nagging feeling in the back of his mind, that maybe he had been important at some point too.

The Akaneian League travelled as far as they could that day—as the sun finally began to set, Marth halted the company and had them set up camp for the night in a field nestled between two forests. By the time the camp was built, the sun had already hidden itself behind the horizon and stars dotted the skies.

Marth had gone to Malledus and Jagen to speak with them in private, and had been absent for quite a while. Roy was seated at a campfire along with a few others—namely Barst, Darros, Merric, Matthis, Lena, and Julian.

"I don't know what to think of this," Matthis said. "It all just feels like some sort of trap, and we're walking right into it."

"Heh, I get ye," Darros said as he continued to clean his axe. "This ain't the kind o' leadership I thought I'd see from a prince—dangerous."

Merric frowned. "I'm sure prince Marth has his reasons. He wouldn't just jump head-first into something without thinking it out first."

"Even so, that doesn't change the fact that this whole thing reeks of a setup," Matthis said.

"When I used to work for the Soothsires, they'd pull this kind of stuff all the time," Julian added. "If it's a trap, I wouldn't be surprised."

Merric was clearly uncomfortable with how little faith the others seemed to have in prince Marth's decision. Lena looked around at everyone before stopping at Roy, who had been silently staring into the fire for the whole debate, not really listening.

"… Roy," Lena said, drawing his attention away from the fire. "What do you think? Do you think that this is just a trap?"

Roy blinked slowly and stared at Lena for a moment before looking back to the fire. "What do I think…?"

Marth, who had just finished meeting with Jagen and Malledus, had overheard Lena's question. Though he was about to walk to the campfire himself, he decided to pause behind a nearby tent to listen.

Roy looked at the others. "I think that prince Marth is smart," he began. "And I don't think Minerva is one to lie."

"Prince Marth has given a lot of us something that we wouldn't have if not for him—food, clothes, weapons and armor, and, even though they're constantly changing, a group of friends and a home," Roy continued. He looked to the fire once more, his gaze drifting as he watched an ember flit away into the air. ". . . Though I've only known him for a few months, I trust his leadership, and I trust him with my very life. I will fight alongside him, and my comrades, until my last breath escapes me. So whether this is a trap or not, I have faith that he will make the right decisions in that defining moment, and we will emerge victorious."

The others at the campfire hushed, the only noise being the crackling of burning wood—Roy's words had left them with no rebuttal.

Marth was taken by surprise and could not help but stare in silence at the back of the mercenary that had just stood up for him. His gaze slowly lowered to the grass by the tent's edge.

Slowly, a small, genuine smile graced his expression.

Deciding against intruding, Marth turned and left towards his own tent to retire for the night.

* * *

It had taken the Akaneian League two nights and two and a half days to finally reach their destination. On the horizon loomed Castle Deil, which, under other circumstances would have been more of a relief—but because of its occupation by Doluna, all it spelled out was more warfare.

"So you're telling me to keep an eye on this kid if we ever have to deal with him?" Zharov said gruffly, sitting on his throne. "Why should I believe you, someone I have never met before?"

"I assure you it will be in your best interest," spoke the target of Zharov's questions. A figure dressed in black robes stood before the throne, a tome in his hand. "Perhaps you will realize why when you do finally meet…"

A knock on the door to the throne room drew Zharov's attention away from the cloaked man. "Come in," he said.

Princess Minerva entered the throne room. "General," she said.

Zharov's eyes narrowed. "Princess Minerva, why are you here? It is unwise to leave your designated post, seeing as though your sister's wellbeing depends on your ability to obey orders."

Minerva's lips pursed. "General Zharov, I did not come to start a problem, and I am aware of my sister's current state. I only came to request to see her. She is only a child, to be left alone in a prison for so long…"

"That's not happening," Zharov said, cutting her off. "She is a prisoner, a hostage. Start following orders if you're so concerned."

Minerva cringed slightly, and the door behind her suddenly burst open.

"General! We've got a problem!" shouted a soldier as he entered, and Zharov let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl.

"Interruptions everywhere," he muttered. "What do you want?!"

"I'm sorry general, but it's an emergency! The rebel army, they've been sighted! They're coming in from the east, and quickly!" the soldier reported.

Both Minerva and Zharov were surprised.

"The rebels…?" Minerva whispered to herself. "That means prince Marth is coming…"

"Damn it, why the hell would they come here, anyway?!" shouted Zharov as he stood. "No matter! Ready the troops and the Dragoons, we'll wipe out those blasted rebels here before they get the chance to go any farther!"

"Yes sir!" the soldier responded with a salute before running back out of the throne room.

"Minerva, I better see you on the battlefield," Zharov growled at her. "If not, your sister will be the one to pay alongside those Akaneian League fools."

Minerva tensed before nodding. She quickly left the room so she could prepare herself for the upcoming fight.

"And you," Zharov said as he looked to the cloaked mage. "You, go on ahead and warn Khozen and Volzhin of the approaching rebel army. I'm sure they'll be more than willing to pass on the word of your loyalties to Medeus. I would do it myself, but now my hands are full."

The man smiled under his hood. "You have my thanks, general," he said, his voice eerily smooth. In a wisp of dark wind, the mage was gone.

Zharov clicked his tongue and turned his back to the door of the throne room. "Those damned children," he growled. "All of them, from the prince to Minerva- all of them are fools. And every single one of them will pay."


	13. Chapter XI: The Fall of Deil

**Heya! Man I swear as soon as you get a moment to take a breath, another avalanche of bleh hits you. Life, y tho.  
**

**Anyway, I happily present Chapter XI! Yay! The longest chapter so far I think. ovo" I won't be surprised if all the ones coming up next will be as long or maybe even longer... rip.**

**Thank you randomadorablepikachu for proofreading! And thank you to those who have reviewed and followed this story so far!  
As usual, spoilers for FE6/7/1/11 and I don't own FE. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!  
**

* * *

**Chapter XI: The Fall of Deil**

Just as Zharov had commanded, the Akaneian League was met with the entirety of Doluna's forces that had been stationed at Castle Deil. Marth's soldiers were, without a doubt, heavily outnumbered, and even though Marth remained outwardly silent on the clear disadvantage his side was faced with, he had begun to feel nervous. The castle's prison walls were just ahead and a solid line of Doluna soldiers, from cavaliers to archers, had formed in front of it, facing the approaching rebel army.

Roy could sense Marth's nerves—in fact, they were almost beginning to overwhelm him the closer they got to the battlefield. Because of this, he decided to catch up to the prince and tap his shoulder from behind.

"Marth," Roy said, causing Marth to look back.

"Oh, yes Roy? … What is it?" Marth asked.

"Don't be so nervous," Roy said quietly. "… We'll be fine. We'll take them out, rescue princess Maria and free Minerva, and then we'll continue on, just like we always have."

Something about Roy's tone was rather calming to Marth, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. ". . . You're right," he said. "This is no time to let my nerves take over me. Thank you for reminding me."

Roy smiled and nodded at him.

Once they got close enough to Castle Deil's walls, Zharov's army charged, initiating the battle. Almost instantly there were soldiers yelling, weapons clanging, and bloodshed—though unlike past battles with other enemies, this one was being fought against soldiers and knights with much more finesse and knowledge of their weapons. On top of that, a number of them were much better armed than previous enemies—Marth had noticed the glinting of a number of silver weapons not owned by his own men out of the corners of his eyes as he fought.

Roy and Jagen had ended up fighting alongside each other once again—something that the older of the two of them never thought would become such a common occurrence.

"Roy, we need to clear a path inside," Jagen grunted as he slew an armored knight. "Princess Maria is in there, and we'll need to get Marth to her as quickly as possible before anything can happen to her!"

Roy was locked in a duel with another sword-wielding knight and clashed blades with him. "I'm… on it," Roy growled as he pushed the armored knight back. With a swift slash of his blade from left to right, he cut his enemy down. "Let's get going then!"

Jagen nodded. "Get on my horse," he said. "It will be easier to cut them down from here, and once we get to the entrance, you can dismount!"

Roy nodded slightly and, without a word, ran to Jagen's horse. He hoisted himself up behind Jagen and extended his sword to the right.

"Hyah!" Jagen shouted and his horse bolted.

With his silver lance, Jagen ran his enemies through on the left while Roy sliced them through on the right. Most enemies were taken off-guard by the two of them charging in on the same steed, making them easy targets.

Just like long before, Roy could feel a heat building up in his chest as he cut his enemies down one-by-one, their blood staining the fields. He let out a sharp breath through his nose.

Once they reached the entrance to Castle Deil's prison, Roy swiftly dismounted Jagen's horse.

"I will bring Prince Marth here next," Jagen said. "Will you be fine, holding enemies off on your own until he's arrived?"

Roy nodded curtly, his grip tightening on the hilt of his blade.

Jagen smiled a bit. "To think I would trust you enough now to let you go into this prison together with the prince," he said before turning his horse back around. "Life works in the strangest ways… hyah!"

Roy watched for a moment as Jagen rode back out into the fields to retrieve Marth. He shifted his sword in his hands before turning to enter the building, deciding to go ahead and clear out at least some of the hall on his own. Upon entering, however, he noticed that it was eerily still, unlike the chaos going on just outside the prison doors.

His eyes narrowed and he glanced around. Something was definitely wrong.

The sound of a bowstring snapping caused him to jolt, but by the time he saw the arrow, it was too late—the slender projectile had embedded itself in him, directly underneath his right shoulder. Roy let out a loud groan of pain and fell to a knee, grasping at the intruding object with his left hand. A group of soldiers ran out from the darkness around the corner up ahead and charged at him, their weapons drawn.

Roy glanced ahead of him and grunted as he yanked the arrow out of his body and tossed it to the side. Shakily he rose to his feet and, with a surge of power, he ran at the enemy horde alone. His mind was in a haze of pain and anger as he locked blades with one of his enemies.

"Wh—you… monster!" the man half-shrieked before his sword was swept out of his hands. Roy ran him through with his sword, swiftly killing him. The man's words had not reached Roy's ears, but they did reach the ears of the other soldiers.

"Monster…?!" one repeated and gripped his spear.

Roy glanced at him and frowned slightly—he could feel his skin crawl, and he could feel the fire in his chest burning hotter. The arrow wound in his shoulder was but a dull tingling now.

Jagen had gotten back to Marth and rode him through the battlefield to the entrance of the prison like he had done with Roy just a short while ago. Marth leapt off of Jagen's horse and gripped the hilt of his blade.

"Be careful, sire," Jagen warned. "I'm certain the interior of the prison is well-guarded."

Marth nodded. "Without a doubt, yes. I will be careful."

Jagen bid Marth good luck before he rode back out into the field to fight once more. Marth pursed his lips and held his breath for a moment as he looked up at the prison walls.

"Well… here goes nothing!" he said to himself before running in.

The smell is what got to him first. The whole hall smelled like dirt, must, and blood. Marth couldn't help but cringe at the odor before he covered his nose with his left hand.

"Gods…" he muttered. There were enemy soldiers' corpses littering the floor, each of them killed by what looked like the stab of a blade to the chest or stomach.

"Rrragh!" came Roy's yell from down the hallway.

Marth ran down the entrance hall and to the connected hall on the right. His eyes widened in shock as he saw Roy cut cleanly through a guard's chest, right through his armor.

"Roy!" Marth shouted as the guard's body dropped to the floor.

The mercenary's back tensed up and he froze for a moment when Marth called out to him. Marth ran over to him and put his hand on Roy's shoulder from behind. "Hey!"

Roy shuddered and looked back to Marth quickly. For a moment, Marth swore he saw something red beneath Roy's eyes before it faded.

"Ma…Marth?" Roy stuttered, as if he had just been woken from a deep sleep.

"Gods, Roy, how did you…" Marth mumbled and turned him a little bit. "You're wounded!"

As soon as Marth brought attention to the arrow wound, Roy could feel it throb.

"Gah," he winced and put his hand over the still-bleeding spot. "I… I didn't notice…"

Marth glanced from Roy's hand to his face. Roy's eyes were tightly clenched and his lips were pursed, and though he looked normal now, Marth was sure he had seen something strange just a few moments earlier…

However, the sound of a girl crying out for help quickly tore Marth's attention away from his comrade. Roy looked forward as well, his eyes still squinted.

"Do you think that's…" Roy started as Marth shook his head.

"There's no time to think about it right now, we need to go find out!" Marth looked to him. "Will you be alright to run?"

Roy nodded. "If one arrow wound could take me down, I wouldn't have made it this far," he mumbled. Marth couldn't help but smirk faintly before they ran down the hall to find the source of the scream.

A group of roughed up enemy soldiers were crowding in front of a cell that, from what the two of them could see, contained a young red-headed girl.

"Go away!" she shouted.

"No way hun," one of them growled. "You're coming with us! To let you fall into that bastard prince's hands…"

"'Bastard prince?'" questioned Marth out loud, drawing the group's attention to him and Roy.

"G-Gah! Damnit," one grunted as they all drew their weapons. "They're here already…?! Blast, charge!"

The mob of angered soldiers ran at Marth and Roy, and the two of them raised their weapons to fight back. The fight was a mess of stumbling and sloppily-executed attacks from the enemy side, probably due to their own hastiness. Roy stepped back a few steps as he blocked an enemy's downward strike with his own sword. His arrow wound throbbed and he grit his teeth as he pushed the other man back before bringing him to a swift end.

Once the hall was cleared, Marth let out a sigh before glancing to the cell not but a few feet away. He went to the cell door and looked inside. "Ah! Are you…"

The young girl, who was standing back in the far corner, looked out to him. "Go away…! I don't… wait, are you…?"

"I am Prince Marth of Altea," Marth said. "You must be the princess…"

"Prince Marth!" the girl exclaimed and wiped her eyes before dashing up to the cell door. "Yes, I am! Oh, have you come to rescue me?"

He simply nodded. "Yes. We just need to find a cell key first and I will…"

"Marth," Roy said as he approached, the key to the cell door in hand. "This was on one of the soldier's belts."

"Ah? Is that the key?" Marth questioned. "If so, that makes this a lot easier."

Roy nodded and Marth stepped out of the way to let him get to the door. Roy inserted the key and turned it—a small, metallic click signaling the lock's opening.

"There we go," he said as he opened the door. Maria instantly rushed out to them.

"Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, looking to Marth. Her cheeks tinged pink as she held her hands together. "My sister will be so glad to hear you rescued me!"

Marth smiled. "I'm glad we got to you in time," he said. "Now let's get going, lest we want to get caught again."

Roy nodded in agreement. "You're right," he said before turning his gaze to Maria. "Is there any exit near here?"

"I think so," she said. "Down the hall here, to the left. I'm coming with you."

After a short pause, Marth nodded his head. "Alright, then let's head out," Marth said before going on ahead.

Roy allowed Maria to go before him, so he could protect her from any potential enemies from behind. There was a sparkle in her eyes whenever she looked ahead to Marth, and Roy caught himself frowning every time he noticed it. The young princess was clearly smitten with his comrade, and he found that a little bit off-putting.

It didn't take long for them to reach the exit and go outside, where they were met with the unsightly view of a ravaged battlefield once more. Thankfully however, since they left through the back door of the prison, there weren't many others out there at the time—most of the fighting was still taking place near the front of the structure.

"Princess Maria, please stay close to us," Marth said and looked back to her. "This is going to be dangerous, and we want to get you to your sister as safely as possible."

Maria nodded in understanding and Marth looked to Roy before heading out into the battlefield, his sword at the ready. Roy glanced around him, surveying the surrounding area as they made their way through the field.

Naturally during their trek they were met with some opposition, but not as much as they were expecting—even though the battle was still mostly being held near the front of the prison, the emptiness of the field between the prison and castle seemed strange.

"Marth!" Roy called out as a shadow quickly passed them from above. A slender spear embedded itself in the ground near them and Maria let out a frightened squeal. The two men quickly filed in front of Maria, both of them readying their weapons and prepared to fight. A familiar red-haired woman, perched atop a large, scaled wyvern, descended to the ground in front of them.

"Halt!" she yelled. "I, Princess Minerva of Medon, shall strike you down where you stand! Doluna will not fall to the forces of a rebel prince!"

"M-Minerva?!" Maria shouted from behind Marth and Roy. "Minerva! Sister! Wait!"

Maria quickly pushed between her two protectors and ran forward. Minerva seemed shocked and instantly moved to lower her axe. "Maria!"

Roy furrowed his brow before slowly lowering his sword. Marth did the same.

Minerva had leapt off of her wyvern and ran to Maria, pulling her into a hug. "Maria! You're safe…!"

Maria cried and buried her face into her sister's chest, trying to stifle her tears. "Th-they saved me…! I didn't think I would ever see you again!"

Marth couldn't help but smile slightly at the exchange and glanced in Roy's direction. He stalled, noticing something unreadable about Roy's expression—was it jealousy?

Marth started to say something. "Roy…-"

"Prince Marth," Minerva said suddenly, drawing Marth's attention to her. "Thank you for saving my sister. I… honestly did not think you would do it… or, not that you would not, but that you could not. I see now that I was wrong. Please forgive me for attacking you, for this time and the time before."

Marth shook his head. "No, there is no need for an apology. I am just glad we were able to return your sister to you and keep her safe from harm."

Minerva agreed. "Yes, thank you. And now that she is back, I no longer have any reason to be tied to Doluna. I am finally free to fight back… hopefully, alongside your army."

There was a moment of surprise, and Marth blinked. "Ah? Would you truly wish to join us?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "If you will have me, I will gladly fight alongside you and put an end to this once and for all."

After a short pause, Marth nodded his head. "We would be honored to have you fight at our side, Princess Minerva."

Minerva bowed slightly. "Thank you, Prince Marth," she said and straightened.

"Of course," he responded. "Would you be willing to lead us to the castle ahead?"

"With pleasure," she said with a hint of anger in her tone. "If I may have my chance at revenge against this wicked empire, and against _him_."

Marth paused. "… Of course."

"… Just don't let your anger get the better of you," Roy suddenly interjected.

Minerva looked in his direction, her gaze sharp. "I wouldn't dream of ruining this opportunity. I will approach it as I approach any war, with a clear mind."

"… Then there will be no problems," Roy said and nodded. "Let's get going."

* * *

The scent of blood permeated the air as Roy, Marth, and Minerva cleared their way towards the room Minerva told them was the throne. General Zharov was still inside the chamber, surely waiting for them to come to him first.

As they battled their way through the halls, Marth couldn't help but notice something different about the way Roy was fighting. He seemed less refined and calculated—his movements were impulsive and swift, almost like there was some driving force behind his blade hand other than his own. It was subtle enough that others may not have seen it, but with how much time Marth had spent with Roy on the battlefield and sparring, Marth could see the changes clear as day.

'Ngh… maybe I am overthinking it,' Marth thought to himself as he drew his attention away from Roy to block an enemy's blade. But even though he tried to push it aside, deep down inside he knew that something was wrong.

Eventually they made it to their destination. In front of them stood the massive, impressive throne room doors. Minerva said nothing and simply glanced back to Marth and her sister before pressing her palms to the doors and throwing them open. There was a rumble and groan as the doors parted and swung open. The three of them ran inside, and Maria tagged along behind them, keeping close to her sister.

At the very end of the room sat Zharov, the centre of all Minerva's disaffections, on the throne.

"So you've finally made it," Zharov spoke slowly, his tone deep with pure abhorrence.

Roy's eyes widened and a small twinge of pain shot through his head at the sound of Zharov's voice. He quickly bowed his head to grip his temples, his teeth gritting from the pain as a hazy flood of memories came back to him.

"_Jealousy."  
Ting.  
"Hate."  
Ting.  
"Greed."  
Ting.  
"As long as humans exist… this madness will never end!"_

Roy gagged and gasped for breath, his throat burning. He weakly gripped at Marth's arm to keep himself steady, and Marth quickly put one hand on Roy's back and another on his chest.

"Roy!" Marth shouted.

"G…ghah…." Roy coughed.

Zharov's eyes narrowed. "I see… so you're the one he told me about." His eyes closed. "No matter. My fight is with you, Minerva."

Minerva looked from her comrades to Zharov. "That it is," she said, pulling out Hauteclere as Zharov rose from his seat at the throne.

Reinforcements burst forth from the doors behind them and Marth quickly looked back. "Ah…!"

Roy winced and shook his head. "Marth… let go… we've got this," he mumbled and pushed out of Marth's grip carefully. "Minerva can take out Zharov… We'll take care of the reinforcements…"

Marth looked to Roy quickly. "Roy, you cannot push yourself—"

"Marth," he said again, looking straight at him. "If I don't fight, I'll just be dead weight here. There's… no other choice."

Marth tensed and the sound of an explosion from Minerva's direction made him glance that way. Minerva had already begun attacking Zharov, and the two of them were locked in a heated duel.

"… Alright," Marth said. "Then let us fight and keep them from disrupting Minerva! Maria, stay behind us!"

The two swordsmen kept themselves busy with the reinforcements as Minerva battled Zharov, her former general. Though Zharov was incredibly powerful, Minerva's sheer force of will was beginning to prove to be too much for him to handle. The blade of Hauteclere clashed against Zharov's steel lance, making sparks fly. Her teeth grit as she put all her power behind her axe, and Zharov's knees began to buckle.

"Tch-!" he coughed out before swinging his lance enough to force her back.

He could barely regain his footing before Minerva was back in front of him, swinging her axe in from the side. He pulled his lance over to block the blow, and their weapons collided once more—this time, however, the Hauteclere sliced right through the damaged lance, and gouged through his ribs.

Zharov was clearly taken by surprise and his eyes bulged before he began to cough up blood. "Y-you-!"

"Quiet!" Minerva yelled, raising her axe. "You will have no final words!"

With one swift, final strike through his neck, Zharov's eternal silence was finally assured.

* * *

After the defeat of Zharov, the last of the forces at Castle Deil surrendered or fought until defeat. Many of Marth's soldiers were tired or wounded from the hard-fought battle, and Marth ordered a night of rest for everyone.

"We will march forth to the Millennium Court after this," he had said. "So make sure to heal and rest before then. I am counting on all of you..."

Roy had been injured during the fight against the reinforcements within the castle—another arrow, curse them—and was being tended to by Lena. She tried to make some conversation with him, but he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to say much in response to her. She didn't seem to take much mind of his short answers (or if she did, she didn't say anything about it), and when she finished healing him, he thanked her before she went on her way.

He glanced around him before slowly and, he hoped sneakily, walking away from the others. His mind was beginning to haze again and he stumbled behind a large rock in the field not too far from the rest of the group, but in such a way that the rock would hide him from his comrades' eyes. He dropped to his knees almost instantly and doubled over, gripping his hair with one hand and grasping at his chest with the other. His breath caught in his throat as nausea began to wrack his body.

Roy gagged and coughed, moving the hand that was in his hair over his mouth.

_"Are you mad?"_

Roy's gut wrenched and his fingers trembled from numbness. His memories twisted into something of a nightmare as the man's voice grew darker and deeper, and much less human.

_"I can sense the envy inside you, present even in the very marrow of your bones. What are you after here? This world is not your own, and yet you fight. Why? Don't you just want to go home? You know you don't belong here. You've known all along. You've just been too scared to admit it."_

A small groan of pain escaped his lips as he curled up, wrapping his arms around his stomach and curling his fingers into the fabric of his shirt at his sides. His eyes were clenched tightly and his face was pale. A cold sweat was beginning to form over his skin, and his arms quivered.

Marth had been looking for Roy in the group before noticing his absence. Concerned, Marth asked around to the others to see if any of them had seen where Roy had gone. Julian pointed Marth in the direction he had last seen Roy going, which was towards that rock he had hidden himself behind. Marth thanked him before heading over.

As he got closer to the rock, he heard low groans of discomfort. Suddenly struck with worry, he hurried around to the other side to see Roy still there, curled up tightly in a trembling ball, his forehead almost touching the ground. The sight before him was similar to the last time at Pyrathi, when Roy stowed himself away in the shadows to suffer alone.

"Roy…!" Marth exclaimed before coming to his side. He knelt down beside him and put a hand on his back. "Oi…!"

"N-no… no… you're wrong…" Roy muttered into the grass, not hearing the words of his comrade at first.

"Roy!" Marth called out again before shaking him slightly.

"Ngh…?!" Almost instantly the voice in Roy's mind was cut short, and the horrible feelings that were gripping his body vanished. He inhaled sharply before quickly moving to sit up.

Marth noticed how pale his face was. "Roy... Roy, are you okay?" he questioned firmly. "Can you hear me?"

"… Y…eah," Roy mumbled quietly. His eyes looked almost blank. "… It was just another memory… that's all…"

"A memory….?" Marth repeated. "What of? What terrible memory would have you so sick?"

The expression on Roy's face made it clear he wasn't sure of how to answer. "… It was just a voice, and the shadow of a man… He was huge… but…" his voice trailed off.

"… But…?" Marth attempted to help him along.

"… It just got all jumbled and overwhelming, like a raging fire in my mind," he lied. "It made me feel sick, and I couldn't move. Then you snapped me out of it."

There was a silence that fell between them for a few moments as Marth processed what Roy told him. Something didn't seem quite right with Roy's story, but Marth couldn't bring himself to push Roy any farther.

"Alright," he said. "… Roy. If this happens again, especially on the battlefield, please fall back. I don't want you getting hurt because of something like this, like what happened today and the… arrows." He made sure to put emphasis on the fact Roy had been wounded twice.

"… Right," Roy mumbled and nodded. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I'll try to be less of a burden from now on."

Marth shook his head. "No, you misunderstand. You are far from a burden. It's just that… you are too important an asset to us… and…" he stopped, as if trying to find the right words, before he shook his head. "No. You are much too important a friend to me. I do not want you being put in unnecessary danger, especially if you begin to feel ill." He felt like could have said much more, but decided it would be best for them both to keep it short.

"Marth…" Roy mumbled. "… Thank you… I will do the best that I can…"

Marth nodded. "That is all I could ever ask of anyone here, including you. We will work together. Thank you, too, Roy."

Roy nodded almost dumbly at the statement. Marth smiled gently and got up before holding his hand out to his friend.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

Roy hesitated before nodding again and taking Marth's hand. With the prince's help, he got back to his feet, albeit a tad wobbly.

"We have quite the battle ahead of us at the Millennium Court," Marth said to him. "Please… make sure to rest well before then."

"I will," Roy said with a nod. "You, too."

Marth couldn't help but smile a little once more. "Of course."

* * *

From afar, a cloaked figure watched as Marth and Roy returned to the others. He closed his eyes and a smirk slowly formed on his lips.

"How cute," he muttered to himself. "But alas. Even when one of them cares, the other is too concerned about what his mind is telling him to tell them the truth."

The tome in his hand closed with a light pat.

"I wonder how long he will hold up before he finally… snaps. Something tells me that the prince won't be ready for it when it happens."


	14. Chapter XII: Seeds of Rage

**... things are (finally) getting a lil bit serious, huh?  
if it wasn't already clear, some of the inspiration for Roy here is from the Hasha no Tsurugi manga. I like how a certain manakete was handled in that series. (vague so nothing is really spoiled for those that have yet to read it! but it's really great, totally read it sometime)**

**Thank you for the favs, follows, and reviews so far! And thank you as always to randomadorablepikachu for proofreading and finding all my typos, rip.  
FE1/11/6/7 spoilers everywhere, yadda yadda. I don't own FE. I just write ship fics.**

* * *

**Chapter XII: Seeds of Rage**

When Marth had said that there would be quite the battle ahead of them at the Millennium Court, he had been right. Actually, the Altean army had yet to even make it to the Millennium Court before they were met with another battle in Knorda Market. Grust's soldiers were a force to be reckoned with, especially this time—ballisticians were keeping all in Marth's forces on their toes, for fear of being shot at from afar.

Marth had ordered that their first priority was to make sure the townspeople were safe, so he split his forces—one to head northeast and press onward, and another smaller force to go southeast to check on the homes of the people of the market town. There had been a few swordsmen walking the streets that, as soon as they saw anyone from the Altean army, charged in to attack. Thankfully, none of them had been too horribly strong—a few swift hits would take each one out of commission.

Roy was by himself and had made his way through the streets to check on people's homes, making sure that no one was hurt or in danger. Most of the townsfolk were too nervous to speak to him aside from answering whether or not they were safe when Roy asked, but one elderly woman did have a few words of her own opinion to share with him when he came to her door.

"I am sick and tired of this war," she grumbled, moving her arms to the sides exasperatedly. "If it ain't the screams of battle you're hearin', it's the bawlin' of the widows who lost their men. All of you should just go home to your loved ones if you ask me, and get outta here while you can."

Roy had simply agreed that war was tough, but it's what they had to do and that he would not be turning back. The old woman shook her head and wished him luck before closing the door. It took Roy a few moments to gather himself again after the conversation had ended.

How could he go back to his 'loved ones'? He had no home or 'loved ones' to return to—and even if he did, he could not remember them, no matter how hard he tried.

_"As long as humans exist… this madness will never end!"_

The man's voice in his head from just a couple days before rung in his ears again. As much as he hated it, the voice had a point. Humans lie to each other, fight each other, and kill each other. If they did not exist, those problems would no longer plague the world like they do now.

But even with that said, that did not mean humans should all just be gone. There are good people that, to Roy, outshined the bad—like Nyna, the princess of Akaneia who has been trying to free her homeland, or Marth, the prince of Altea… his friend. So even though war was horrible, and humans were the ones fighting each other here, simply turning his back to the wrongness of the world and hiding wasn't an option. Neither was damning all of humanity, like the voice in his head did.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head and turned away from the old woman's house. There were still a few more houses to check up on before he could return to the battlefield up north. With another short breath, Roy jogged down the street towards his next destination.

Marth was on his way towards the centre of the market town. He had only met with a couple of enemies on his way there, but he kept his guard up regardless. As he got closer, he felt a darkness beginning to weigh on his shoulders, like something had been stalking him from behind. His grip on his sword's hilt tightened as he whipped around, ready to attack anything or anyone that may have been behind him.

Not but a few paces away, a cloaked figure stood, tome in hand.

"My, you are quite sharp," the cloaked man admired.

Marth pointed his blade, clearly wary. "Who are you?" he asked, glancing over the man's clothes.

His robes were dark, nearly black, with embroidery and markings that Marth had never seen before. The tome in his hand was similarly unrecognizable. "That's not really important, is it?" he responded coolly.

"It is when we are in the middle of a war," Marth shot back, his eyes narrowing. He blinked once and, to his surprise, the figure that was just in front of him was no longer there.

"Closing your eyes isn't exactly smart practice when faced with an enemy," came the man's voice from behind. Marth instantly swung himself back around, slicing his sword through the cloaked man's side. However, instead of slicing through skin and bone, the blade simply sliced through a shadowy mist. Alarmed, Marth quickly looked around him.

The man was a few paces away from Marth, on his left. He chuckled slightly. "This is amusing and all, but I've no time for games today," he said. "I just came to see your progress."

"My progress?" Marth repeated skeptically and turned to face him, his sword still at the ready.

"Yes, the fact that you fight so hard is amusing to me," the man responded. "And you hold hands with your so-called 'comrades' and expect them all to cooperate and listen to you. It's… funny."

Marth could not help but scowl at the man's amusement. "What is the point of this?" he questioned, clearly agitated.

"Ah," the man started, and Marth could see the faintest of smiles beneath the shadow cast by his hood. "I just wanted to see the look on your face just before your bubble is finally burst."

"Enough of this!" Marth yelled, ready to attack him again.

The cloaked figure laughed. "You yell at me now, and yet you know nothing. Keep a close eye on the ones you hold dear, or else you may just be faced with something you will not able to handle," he warned, though he was clearly amused.

With a frustrated yell, Marth ran at the cloaked man and stabbed at him with his blade. However, even though he had been quick, the man still dodged out of the way, and with another laugh and mumbling of something inaudible, he disappeared into a dark wind. With a frustrated exhale, Marth looked around him once more. The foreboding feeling he had before had disappeared and the cloaked man was nowhere to be seen. Marth shook his head before moving to stand up straight.

"What was that," he thought out loud.

Deciding against standing there in thought too much longer, the prince continued on his way to the town centre. It was there he saw a band of ruffians causing problems for the townspeople, and refusing to back down to the other two soldiers of Marth's, Abel and Roy, that had made it there before him. As soon as Marth approached, however, the ruffians went from obnoxiously uncooperative to scared out of their wits, and their leader called for them all to retreat. Abel muttered under his breath as he watched them run off, clearly frustrated with how inept they were, and Roy simply shook his head.

The three of them checked up on the Akaneians that had been held hostage by the gang, and made sure that no one had been seriously hurt. Once they were all considered well, Marth asked for them all to go home to their families and stay out of harm's way. Every hostage happily obliged, clearly ready to go home, except for one—a young woman by the name of Linde who had disguised herself as a boy.

"My father was Miloah," she explained. "Because of that, Gharnef had sent his soldiers after me… so I went into hiding. But I was taken by those ruffians right after I escaped Gharnef."

"Well, I am glad we've found you now and that you are safe," Marth responded. "Princess Nyna will be happy to see you again—she's been worried about you. I promise I will keep you away from danger so that you may surely see her again."

However, Linde would have none of that—she wanted to fight. "No. Let me fight," she said. "I want to avenge my father and destroy Gharnef!"

Marth was clearly unsure of the idea, but he could not tell Linde no. Therefore, she was allowed to join as a mage, so that she could fight with them against Gharnef and Doluna.

With the market town now checked and deemed safe, Marth led his small group back up north into the fields to meet up with the rest of the army. They had made quite a bit of headway—Jagen had led them forward and they were already nearing the outer walls of the palace. The ground rumbled as Marth, Abel, Linde and Roy continued their trek to meet with their comrades.

"What was that…?!" Marth questioned.

The answer came in the form of a loud, echoing roar.

"A dragon!" Abel exclaimed. Roy had clammed up slightly at first, but quickly shook himself free of the feeling.

"If there's a dragon, then….!" Marth began, but was quickly cut off by Cain, who was riding towards them on his horse.

"Prince Marth! We've got to hurry!" he shouted. "There's a fire dragon! There might not even be a palace left to liberate at this point if we don't hurry!"

There was another roar and heat radiated from around the cliff bend. Cain led Marth and the others around to where the rest of the army was fighting, and the sight was a shock to all of them. A massive fire dragon was rampaging in the field near the castle, setting anything that moved alight with its flame breath.

"Burn! Burn!" the dragon roared. "Burn everything! I, Khozen, will kill all of you!"

Khozen swung his tail around, crashing it into a number of Marth's men, sending them all flying and tumbling across the ground, either unconscious or dead.

"No!" Marth shouted, gripping his sword. Never in his life had he seen so many people taken down at once, with no chance at fighting back. The sound of Marth's voice drew Khozen's attention towards his group. There was a glint of mad pleasure in the dragon's eyes as embers flitted away from the corners of its maw.

It was like Pyrathi all over again, but this time it was even worse. Roy felt his stomach tighten as the dragon towered over them, not once breaking eye contact.

"You humans… you of this bastard prince's army, you are all the same! Even those of you that know not what they are fighting for," the dragon Khozen growled, its gaze shifting for a moment to Roy before looking back towards Marth, "All of you… burn! Your blood and flesh, I will set it all ablaze in the name of Medeus!"

With a feral roar, Khozen raised his claw in preparation to slam it down on them.

"Everyone move!" Marth yelled out, and all five of them quickly ran in different directions to escape the attack.

Khozen's claw slammed down into the spot where they had all just been standing, causing the earth to shake and the ground to buckle and crack beneath the force of the attack. Cain and Abel were the targets of Khozen's flame breath next, and both of them rode their horses out of the way as quickly as they could, with Abel barely making it out of the way. The fight was completely one-sided—none of them could even remotely get close enough to Khozen to try to attack him, but Khozen was constantly throwing things their way. It was beginning to get overwhelming, and Marth could feel his head spinning from the intense heat of the flames being spat over and over.

"Die, die!" Khozen roared and slammed his tail into the ground, causing it to shake.

Marth could barely keep his footing from that, and he stumbled a few steps. This gave enough of an opening for Khozen and he let out another roar as he readied his claw to slam into Marth.

Roy glanced up just as Khozen rose his claw in the air, and his eyes widened—the memory of Pyrathi flashed vividly in his eyes, where Marth had been disoriented and struck down by Mannu's claw.

It was going to happen again. But this time, Marth wouldn't make it out of the attack alive.

"Die!" Khozen's voice boomed as he brought his claw down.

"No!" Roy yelled, a fire ablaze in his chest. The firestone burned in his satchel and he lunged forward with a sudden burst of incredible speed, his arms outstretched.

Khozen's claw came crashing down onto the ground and flames erupted from the ground, causing thick black smoke to billow out.

"Prince Marth!" Abel cried out, and he and the others were all sure he had met his fate.

Inside the smoke, Marth clutched to Roy's chest and coughed profusely. Roy had tackled him just before Khozen's claw made contact and they had rolled rather violently across the ground. As the smoke started to clear, Marth began to open his eyes, even though the burning feeling of the smoke forced him keep them squinted. However, what he saw above him made him forget the pain in his eyes and he quickly opened them wide.

Roy was breathing heavily above him, his eyes clenched tightly, and red crystalline scales were dotting his skin under his eyes. His teeth were sharper and his hair seemed a little bit wilder, and his body was almost as hot as fire.

"R… Roy," Marth barely stuttered, at a loss for words.

After a moment that seemed to last forever, Roy slowly opened his eyes. His eyes were a deep red and his pupils were thin slits. Marth's whole body tensed in shock and, initially, fear.

"… Are… you okay?" Roy grunted, his voice quiet and rough. Even though his eyes were frightening at first sight, there was still a genuine kindness and concern in them that showed Roy was still very much himself, at least at that moment.

"I… I'm fine," Marth mumbled in response, and Roy nodded slightly at that. The smoke cleared enough for Khozen to spot them once again, and he let out a loud roar. His tail came to slam down on them.

"Look out!" Marth shouted as he quickly pushed Roy over with himself, and the tail slammed into the ground right next to them, causing a powerful enough blast of wind to send them rolling a few more feet.

Roy grunted as they settled again on the ground, this time with Marth above him, and Marth glanced over to Khozen. "We've got to get up," he said quickly before scrambling back to get to his feet and grip the hilt of his sword. Roy pushed himself off of the ground as well, and Khozen seemed to laugh.

"You are such a fool! You don't even know what you're doing!" he roared. "Tell me, stupid manakete: how do you expect to kill me without even utilizing your own strength?!"

Marth grit his teeth and glanced towards Roy, who still had his back facing Khozen. His eyes were closed and his brow was furrowed, and it was clear to Marth that he was doing his best to hold himself back.

"Roy… don't let him get to you," Marth panted out.

"You are a lost fool! Let that stone take hold of you and show me what dragons like you are capable of!" Khozen taunted. "Or are you too afraid to let it free?!"

At that, Roy shifted his weight on his feet and began to turn. Marth tensed and looked more towards Roy.

"Roy—"

"Marth, get back," Roy said as he opened his eyes to look straight up at Khozen.

"Roy!" Marth tried again.

"Marth! I said get _back_!" Roy shouted as he stared at Khozen, his voice laced with a roar.

Even though his mind and body told Marth to not leave, he decided to back down. Hesitantly, he took a few steps back, and Cain rode over to protect him.

"You are one of us, even if you refuse to accept it," Khozen growled. "It doesn't matter if you look different. You are one of us!"

Roy said nothing and lunged up at Khozen's head, his sword leaving a trail of fire behind him. Khozen roared and moved his head out of the way of Roy's attack, bringing his claw up to slash at him. Streaks of fire lit up the sky around Khozen as Roy leapt around, trying to attack him.

"You don't even know what you're fighting for!" Khozen roared as he swung his tail at Roy once again. "You have such a fire in your soul, yet it has no direction!"

Roy heard all of Khozen's taunts, but paid them no mind. Khozen, realizing this, finally decided to go for the one nerve in Roy's head that he had been prodding for the whole time:

"That cloaked man was right, you are weak! So weak and afraid of yourself that you'll watch your friends here all die by dragons, just like the ones in your own land will now that you are gone!"

With that, the single thread keeping Roy's mind held together snapped and a flood of emotions washed over him. He gnashed his teeth together before letting out a loud, echoing roar.

Marth's eyes widened and he yelled out his friend's name as he watched him be consumed by fire. The flames burned so brightly that he and the others had to shield their eyes, and Khozen laughed manically.

"Ahaha! Get angry! Let those seeds of rage sprout and show us your true self!" he boomed in twisted amusement.

A low draconic roar permeated the air and the brightness of the fire lessened enough that Marth could uncover his eyes. However, as soon as he uncovered them, he wished that everything he saw before him was just some sick, twisted nightmare.

There stood, in front of Khozen, another horrific beast.

Flames erupted from its back as it roared. Marth could not believe what he saw.

Roy had transformed into a fire dragon.


	15. Chapter XIII: Red

***slowly submits a new chapter* I mean... what... this has been here you guys just didn't notice, I totally didn't leave you guys hanging-**

**Sorry for stalling so long on this new chapter. A LOT of things have...happened... in the past... 11 months... that have kept me from a lot, not just writing. But anyway, enough of that. Sorry guys ;_;  
There were a few comments on "Roy is an Ice dragon though because Ninian..?!" which is true. However, manaketes of any kind can use a Firestone- ice tribe/fire tribe/divine manaketes, whoever. They don't have to be from the Fire Dragon Tribe to use it. It's kind of weird, but that's how the lore works. ;P Your only prerequisite is you gotta be a manakete to use one, which Roy technically fills that prereq...**

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and thanks to all of you that have reviewed/followed/fav'd in this long time. :) Sorry again for leaving you all waiting for so long.**

* * *

**Chapter XIII: Red**

_"Ahaha! Get angry! Let those seeds of rage sprout and show us your true self!" Khozen boomed in twisted amusement._

_ A low draconic roar permeated the air and the brightness of the fire lessened enough that Marth could uncover his eyes. However, as soon as he uncovered them, he wished everything that he saw before him was just some sick, twisted nightmare._

_ There stood, in front of Khozen, another horrific beast._

_ Flames erupted from its back as it roared. Marth could not believe what he saw._

_ Roy had transformed into a fire dragon._

* * *

Marth could barely breathe at the sight before him.

Roy was a fire dragon. His body was orange and yellow, and instead of wings, fire was erupting from his back and extended down his tail. Talons jutted out in front of his chest and horns lined his head. A strange strip of gold lined the sides of his neck, stomach, and tail, and small sharp crystalline spikes seemed to overlay his scales.

With a shake of his head, Marth quickly tore his gaze from Roy and stared at the ground.

"Gods," he could hear Cain mutter under his breath. "All this time…"

Roy let out a roar and stamped his front claws into the ground, causing a small tremor. Khozen let out a twisted laugh.

"Good! Now fight me like the dragon you are!" he demanded. Roy growled and rose up on his hind legs to lunge towards Khozen. They collided and their tails thrashed about, whipping through the air and slamming on the ground.

"Shit," Cain suddenly said. "We need to get back! We'll get hit by one of them if we stay here! Prince Marth!"

Marth didn't respond to Cain's call, however. Roy roared loudly, making Marth look up towards him again. Cain grit his teeth.

"Gah, sorry, but we really gotta move," he said before suddenly grabbing Marth and hoisting him up onto his horse. "Hyah!"

Cain rode away until they were at a distance that was safe enough from the two dragons before he stopped his horse. He looked back to Marth to check on him. Marth didn't move at all, and he stared intently at Cain's back, his thoughts clearly racing.

"Marth!" came Caeda's voice as she flew towards them with her Pegasus, with Jagen following right behind. Marth quickly snapped out of his daze and looked towards them.

"Caeda, Jagen…!"

"Are you both alright?!" Jagen asked, concerned. Caeda's Pegasus huffed loudly as she landed.

"Y… Yes, we are both fine," Marth responded and nodded. They both seemed relieved at that.

"Good," Caeda said. "There are two dragons out there… I thought there was only one here!"

Marth shook his head. "There… was… but…" he tensed and glanced over. "One of those dragons is Roy."

Jagen tensed instantly. "Roy?!" he repeated and looked out towards them still fighting each other.

"Yes…" Marth responded, hesitant. He wasn't sure of what to do, and Jagen looked towards him. It had been a long time since he saw confusion and fear gripping his lord like it was right now. The last time it happened was back when Marth lost his family and had to escape to Talys. There was a heavy silence.

". . . Prince Marth," Jagen said, drawing Marth's attention. "… We can trust him."

Marth was clearly surprised. "Wh… what?" he responded dumbly.

"We can trust Roy, even if he's like this," Jagen said and looked out to Roy and Khozen fighting again. "… He clearly knows who is comrades are. He will not attack us. Leave that enemy dragon to him, and trust him."

It was clear that Jagen's words took not only Marth, but all three of the others there by surprise. After a few moments of silent consideration, Marth's brow furrowed and he nodded curtly.

"Right," he said, his voice returning to normal. "We will busy ourselves with the rest of our enemies and leave the dragon to Roy!"

Roy's eyes glanced towards them as the group rode away to rejoin the fray. Khozen let out a maniacal, growling laugh, drawing Roy's attention back to him. Khozen bore his fangs and moved his head, shifting his weight to taunt at Roy. A growl escaped Roy's throat and he lunged towards Khozen once more, their claws tearing at each other and their jaws snapping as they tried to rip at each other's necks.

The ground shook and the air whipped about as their tails slammed into the earth and sliced through the air; fire bellowed out from their maws as they scorched each other's hides and the foliage around them.

Bantu watched the two of them from a safe distance away, his old eyes narrowing at the sight. There were many things different about Roy's dragon form that he had never seen before, even throughout all his years of life, that puzzled him; from his scales to his horns and even his wings of flame, Bantu found himself wondering where in the world such strange looking dragons would exist.

However, even beyond his appearance, there was something else Bantu noticed about Roy that troubled him; he could sense Roy's energy and how it was seemingly stifled—like he was straining himself to be in the form he was, which, for Bantu, meant one thing: the boy was no pureblooded dragon, and the use of the firestone was taxing him greatly. And as if that wasn't enough on its own, it seemed like there was another power struggle going on inside him, like a bubble straining not to burst.

". . . But he is holding up well… even with that conflict of power," Bantu grumbled to himself before turning his attention back towards another group of approaching enemies.

"_Ahahahaha!_" Khozen laughed madly once more as he and Roy exchanged talons, ripping into one another. "Yes, keep fighting, you fledgling monstrosity, and show me your power so I can crush it with my claws and shred it apart with my fangs! Your blind fury will only get you so far!"

A deep growl bellowed forth from Roy's throat and he let out a roar. Blood had gushed from his wounds, and the pain of those mixed with his transformation was starting to become unbearable. He only had a fraction of his energy left to end this fight and be the victor, but Khozen was not yet weak enough for a final blow. Perhaps if his own power was used against him…

Roy's arms tensed and his head reared back as fire started to build in his chest and travel up his throat. His tail slammed into the ground as he whipped his head forward, a massive ball of flame shooting forth from his maw right at Khozen. It burst upon impact, the force of the fire causing Khozen to rear back and let out a low screech. The fire burned him hotter than normal flame, and he stumbled back as he tried to keep himself steady.

"What kind of flame is that to melt through the scales of a dragon!" he roared, baring his fangs once more at Roy. "I will show you your place!"

Khozen breathed in deep, the air around him increasing in temperature dramatically as his own flame breath built in his chest. Roy roared and followed suit—embers flitted through the air and the area around them became unbearably hot as they both readied their final blows.

"Prince Marth," Jagen shouted as he pulled his lance from one of his few remaining enemies. "You need to get away from here lest you be scorched! Let me take you away from here! Our enemies may fall to their flames but you cannot!"

Marth nodded in agreement, the building heat causing him to sweat more than he already was. "Yes," he said simply before quickly pulling himself onto Jagen's horse. As Jagen rode them a safer distance away, Marth looked back to the two dragons, his brow furrowing as he bit the inside of his lip.

Roy grumbled as his veins surged; something within him making the flame in his chest burn hotter than before, almost to an unbearable degree. This was his last effort—after this, he would be spent—so it was all or nothing, even if taking out Khozen cost him his life.

Khozen let out a roar as he whipped his head forward, a huge ball of flame bursting forth from his mouth. Roy followed suit, and a ball of white-hot flame shot at Khozen's before they collided.

A blinding light swallowed the field around them as the flames exploded—scorching hot winds pushed back everyone and everything not absorbed by the light, sending many of the Akaneian League members and their enemies flying.

Marth shielded his eyes from the light and Jagen's horse neighed loudly as it stammered back, almost bucking the prince and the knight off.

"Gods-!" Jagen shouted, though his voice was drowned out by the wind.

After a few moments, the wind died down enough that Marth could finally move his arm from his eyes. He squinted as he looked to the field were the two dragons were once standing, and was surprised by what he saw—both dragons were still standing, their gazes locked on one another. Their breaths were labored, and both of them were clearly exhausted.

"H…ah… Even… after all this…" Khozen barely wheezed out, "to be… bested by a child... Emperor Medeus… I…"

His arms buckled as he stumbled forward and collapsed to the ground, the evil dragon finally breathing his last. Roy's eyes were trained still on Khozen's corpse as he breathed heavily, fatigue finally setting in and weighing him down like a ton of bricks. He closed his eyes and let out a disgruntled groan as he stumbled, his tail falling limp behind him as he fell to his stomach. His draconic form caught flame and dissipated, leaving naught but his weary human form left, on his hands and knees, battered and bruised from his fight.

All the sounds around him were muddled, as if he were underwater. He could hear what sounded like shouting, and perhaps the hooves of horses and footsteps, but his head was too heavy to lift to look around him. The charred grass and dirt beneath him were all too interesting as his eyes tried to focus. It was like his mind was lagging, like he was in a dream… maybe if he just took a quick rest, he would be okay.

His eyelids grew heavy and just as he was about to let darkness consume him, an arm wrapped under his chest and pulled him back, startling him out of it.

"—oy! Roy!" Marth shouted. "Don't close your eyes here, you'll-!"

Roy gasped for air and his hands scrambled to grip at the ground and Marth's tunic. His eyes were wide for a moment as he whipped his head around to get his bearings before he looked up towards Marth. "Marth…?!" he spoke, his throat raw and his voice raspy.

"Yes, it's me," Marth responded with a nod, "You're awake, thank the gods."

Though Marth seemed relieved, Roy could not find himself able to rejoice in quite the same way. His whole body ached, he was covered in deep cuts and bruises, and his insides felt like they had been ripped apart. Everything _hurt_.

The prince, noticing his friend's pain, looked towards Jagen. "Jagen, please go find Maria and Lena as quickly as you can," he ordered. Jagen nodded and quickly rode off on his horse in search of the two.

Marth's attention turned to Roy once more as his friend started to cough. His grip tightened on Marth's back and his eyes clenched shut as his expression contorted from the pain.

"Hang on," Marth spoke quietly. "We'll get you healed up as much as we can…"

A short while later, Jagen had returned with Lena and Maria, who quickly got to work on healing Roy's wounds. Bantu slowly approached them, his eyes fixed on Roy, who was lying back on the ground, staring up wearily at the sky. Marth glanced towards the older manakete as he approached before turning to him. "Bantu," he said and nodded. Bantu slowly nodded back at Marth before drawing his attention to Roy once more.

"… I suppose I do not have to ask you how you feel," Bantu spoke.

Roy, without moving his head, looked towards Bantu, and his expression told Bantu more than enough about his current condition. There was a long, tense silence as Lena and Maria finished their work and rose to their feet.

"We've done what we can for now… you should be out of any immediate danger," Lena spoke softly. "Though you will probably still be sore for some time."

Roy nodded a little and cringed as he pushed himself up, sitting up on the ground. "I would rather be sore than on the brink of death…" he mumbled. "Thank you, I am in both of your debts."

Maria smiled at him and rocked on the balls of her feet. "You'll just have to get us presents at the next town," she teased, which made Roy smile.

"It's the least I can do," he responded.

Lena smiled and bowed a little. "There are others that need our help, so we will be off…" she said. Jagen brought his horse back to them so both her and Maria could be taken back out to the others that needed healing.

Once they were gone, silence fell between the three that remained. Roy was staring at the ground in thought, and Marth pursed his lips. Roy then turned his head to look at Bantu.

"Bantu," he started. "… I have a lot of questions."

Bantu's eyes narrowed as he nodded slowly. "I am sure you do…" he said slowly as Roy carefully pushed himself up to his feet.

". . . Did you know?" he asked hesitantly as he looked at Bantu again. Marth looked from Roy to Bantu, keeping silent.

". . . I had a hunch," the old manakete replied truthfully. "But what transpired is not what I expected."

"'What transpired?' What do you mean?" Marth asked, and Roy nodded in agreement.

"I was not expecting him to turn into a dragon," Bantu said as he glanced to Marth. "Though the stone I gave him would affect his strength, I was not expecting him to transform as he did."

Roy furrowed his brow. "Why is that?" he questioned, not understanding. "Dragonstones are used by manaketes to transform into dragons… so why would that be any different for me?"

Bantu turned his attention back towards Roy. "Because you are not the same as a manakete such as myself," he stated simply. "Your manakete blood is weaker by a significant margin. No manakete would have expected you to transform the way you did."

The three went silent for a time and Roy stared at the ground, hard in thought. His fists clenched as he looked back to Bantu once more. "Are you saying then that my parents…" he started.

"You are no pureblooded manakete," Bantu clarified. "There is manakete in your lineage, but you were born of both man and manakete, not manakete alone."

". . . Is… that why everything hurt as it did?" Roy questioned hesitantly. "Because I pushed too far? Because I'm not a true manakete like you?"

Bantu thought on it for a moment, carefully weighing his ideas. "It may have played part, yes. I could tell by your energy that being a Fire Dragon was less natural to your body. Though manaketes of all kinds can employ the use of a Firestone, it can sometimes be more taxing for those that have never used one before… So that plays a part, and is multiplied by your diluted manakete blood. For one such as yourself, transforming in general would be taxing on your body, but pairing yourself with a stone you have never used amplifies things."

Roy nodded slowly in understanding.

". . . But," Bantu started once more, "even with all that said… I would not have expected it to injure you as much as it did."

That caught Roy and Marth both by surprise. "What do you mean?" Roy questioned him.

Bantu quietly stared at Roy, looking into his eyes as if trying to calculate something. After a few quiet moments, he took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them. He put his old clawed hand against Roy's chest. "Inside here, I could sense something… something inside of you that was trying to rip the dragon out of your body," he said, his voice low. "Something ripping your two halves apart from the inside… but I do not know what."

Something in his words sent a chill down Roy's spine. Something else had been trying to attack him, but from the inside? He didn't understand, but it seems Bantu did not, either.

The prince quietly watched from beside them, troubled. He wanted to say something, but he knew nothing of which they spoke, so he elected to stay silent.

* * *

"Lord Volzhin," a general exclaimed as he quickly approached his lord on the top of Akaneia Palace's walls. "Khozin has been…"

"Defeated, yes," Volzhin said, not turning his attention away from the charred battlefield not far away. "Slain by a youngling dragon."

The general gulped quietly. "Y… Yes, my lord. What should we do? The army will approach the castle if we do not go out and…"

"Let them come," Volzhin responded, cutting the general off. The general seemed surprised.

"My lord?" he questioned.

"I said…. Let them come," Volzhin said as he turned his head to look back at the general, a small, dark smile on his face. "Ready your men—that's an order."

The general tensed and quickly saluted. "Sir!" he responded before quickly heading back inside.

Volzhin turned his attention towards the battlefield once more, and from beneath his coat, he pulled out an abnormal blackened tome. His old hand touched a page of the book and the smirk on his face grew.

"Yes... Let them approach these walls so I may lend them the opportunity to rip themselves apart; to stain these walls with their blood, shed by their comrades as I play them like puppets and march them to their death."


End file.
